


The Hollow Prince

by runningwithwerewolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Pack, Big Bad Wolf - Freeform, Biting, Blow Jobs, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Dom Chris Argent, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Good Peter, Hand Jobs, Hunters & Hunting, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kanima, Kings & Queens, Lizards, Love Confessions, Lydia's a genius, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Mating, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Neck Kissing, Non-Consensual Violence, POV Multiple, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Past Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Peter and Stiles are Mates, Peter-centric, Pining, Plot Twists, Polyamory, Public Claiming, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Royal Hales, Scent Marking, Sequal?, Sexual Content, Sexual Demands, Stripping, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Touching, True Mates, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:44:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwithwerewolves/pseuds/runningwithwerewolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>And now the darkness approaches,<br/>my appetite whetted by the rising moon,<br/>ravenous thoughts consuming me,<br/>forcing me to madness at the lush pain of it all,<br/>I raise my voice to the stars<br/>and surrender</p><p>--</p><p>Or the one that was inspired by a Grimm fairytale about a big bad wolf and a beautiful young girl with a bright red hood that got totally out of hand and ran away from me to spin into an angsty/fluffy medieval AU. It's got magic, mystery, death, romance and one sided pining; multi-ships and happy endings. Did I mention the Hale's are royalty?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her eyes dart all around her as she storms over the path, the fresh white powder kicking up behind her boots. The dark of the night now only mildly hindered by the light ahead; finally the town could be seen in the distance.

The moon hangs overhead, its cold light embracing the land; only the vast forest is left untouched by the light, the woods, dark and deep, stretch on for what seem like forever. She sucks in a breath as she stares pensively into the dark reaches of the wood; she is far from it, and yet it still felt too close.

She steps back to hear the loud crunching of snow beneath her heel, and she jumps at the suddenness of it; the sound seemed to echo over the emptiness of the night, not another sound stirred around her, she can hear only her own breathing in the dark of the night.

A deep howl shakes her from her stillness; her pulse thrums beneath her throat, loud and persistent as she listens to the long howl in the depths of the forest. She can see her breath in front of her, the chill of the night reaching beneath her cloak and tickling her delicate skin; the howl quiets and she trembles against the cold.

 _It’s getting so dark_ , she thinks; she needed to get home before one of the great beasts of the forest decided to introduce themselves to her flesh. She turns on her heel and takes a short breath before striding off down the path.

Her emerald eyes look to the sky; the tree branches loom over her, reaching out like hands clasping each other in a grim embrace. Her every step trampling the newly fallen snow underfoot and the cold seems to force itself through her thick dress; she quickens her pace in an attempt to warm her skin against the relentless winter air.

She wondered if the long trip was even worth her time, but she shakes her head at the thought; knowing her friend needed the help. She was a great archer and hunter of the beasts that wreak havoc upon their great land; most of the men and women in the Argent family paid service to their country by joining the royal hunters, and it was always Allison’s dream to join her family before her in the tradition.

Lydia couldn’t help the smile that graced her lips; pride warms her as she remembered the day Allison was presented with the offer to join the royal hunters in service to the Queen.

Allison had to move closer to the royal palace to join the other hunters, and as such her honored father moved with her; it was miles away, but her father was so proud she could follow in her family’s steps that they packed up and left without a second thought. They left so suddenly that they forgot many of their belongings in the move; as Allison’s oldest and dearest friend, Lydia was happy to travel the great distance to deliver her family’s heirlooms by hand. Allison offered her a horse and carriage for her troubles, but Lydia refused, insisting it would be much less conspicuous to travel by foot; she wouldn’t want to be accosted by bandits after all.

It wasn’t as if Lydia couldn’t protect herself, Allison taught her how to defend herself against men and creatures alike, but she had yet to actually meet any of the monsters that the hunters defended their land from.

The air’s chill deepens and Lydia shudders against the wind; it was her own fault really, Allison told her to go, but they were having such a wonderful time catching up after not having seen one another for over a month. She should have left earlier of course, to beat the cold of the evening and the danger of the night.

_Why does the path back to Ashley have to be so close to the forbidden forest?_

A strange cry rings out over the land, originating in the forest; Lydia quickens her pace once more, her red cloak gliding behind her. She reaches up, gripping the sides of her hood, securing it around her head. Her now empty leather satchel swings against her knees, and she struggles to keep it tight over her forearm against the speed of her pace.

Her eyes dart all around her as she storms over the path, the fresh white powder kicking up behind her boots. The dark of the night now only mildly hindered by the light ahead; finally the town could be seen in the distance.

 _Not far now_ , Lydia thought; a fire would be waiting to be lit and she could warm herself with some nice porridge and forget all about the howls in the night.

\----

He hummed as the warmth of his meal reached his belly; the tender meat truly delicious. The wolf drives his fangs further into the fur of his prey; the ripping of flesh and crunching of bone, the symphony of the hunt, he could never get enough.

The dark surrounds him like a shroud, and he feels at home. He barely feels the cold of the night over the warmth of the still beating organs of his quarry; he must savor the kill, every bite. The beast grins happily, the blood of his kill dripping down his chin, he continues to feed on the elk slowly.

The freshness of the kill might bring along other predators, but they would never challenge the wolf; he was the king of this wood, his vast kingdom of shadows. He takes his last bites of the organs of the now fading deer, blood covering his muzzle and he raises his crimson eyes to the dark, piercing the shadows of the night with his gaze; deciding nothing would disturb his feast, he takes a longing look at the nearly still heart of his victim.

He waits for the final beats of the creature’s life, finally able to claim his true prize, the beast lurches forward to claim the chewy organ beneath his jaws. His fangs easily pierce the skin and dig further into the tenderness of the meat, the freshness of the prey’s death, the fear it felt before the end has forced its blood to the heart and as the beast tears through its veins the crimson liquid soaks his fur. He hums in delight as he continues his meal, finishing only when the heart of the creature has been completely devoured.

He pulls away slowly, his eyes closed and his front stained with his victim’s blood; he raises his snout to the beautiful Luna, allowing her cold light to embrace him before he howls in ecstasy.

His howl trails off into the deep lovely woods surrounding him, letting the other beasts in his kingdom know he had taken his first blood of the full moon this night; they would know it would not be his last.

He allows his stained lips to pull back against his fangs, grinning as much as he can in his current form, before hearing a pulsing heartbeat and a loud crunching of steps in the distance; his eyes widen as he listens to the beat of an anxious heart near the edges of his forest.

 _Who might that be?_ The wolf wonders.

His fur bristles at the thoughts rushing through his head, the blood he can see in his near future exciting his heart; his grin deepens, his glowing red eyes squinting over his raised cheeks. In one quick motion he’s on all fours and he growls deeply before bouncing off the blood soaked snow at high speed in the direction of the fear filled heart of his new prey.

\--

In minutes he has traveled from the depths of his kingdom to the edges of his territory; his excitement is getting the better of him, he knows it, and he huffs out a hot breath in irritation at himself before lurking to the very edges of the wood.

Remaining unseen or unnoticed was something in which he excelled and the creature he now hunts has no clue they are being stalked; it is walking fast now and the wolf has to follow quickly, hopping over tree roots and rocks, his very presence scaring away the small prey that hide near the edges of the wood.

He scoffs silently at them, as though he would actually waste his time with such easy game; he has a much more interesting quarry in mind. He barely has time to examine the creature as it storms over the path to the human town, never once straying close to the wood; _smart little thing_ , the wolf deigns.

He sniffs deeply as he stalks the creature, sucking in its scent and finding it is indeed human, though it has an unknown smell buried deep within; the wolf sniffs deeply once more, finding the child is a female, quite young. _Untouched, pure_.

The wolf is further excited by its purity, knowing that he would not only enjoy devouring her, but also twisting her into his, making her his plaything. It had been such a long time since he’d found a proper human to play with, someone who would not be easily caught; _the thrill of the hunt is half the fun after all,_ The wolf grins happily as he keeps up easily with the girl’s pace.

He could not see her face from this angle, but her scent is sweet and innocent; upon further exam however, the beast could sense sharpness, perhaps even danger.

_Such a curious creature she is; she could be trained to protect herself, why else would she travel alone? If so, she might just be similar to his last plaything, that blonde hunter thought she was so smart, thought she was tricking the wolf instead of the other way around._

_How wrong she was, how dead she is._

The wolf smirks to himself before letting his red eyes glare through the trees at his new prey; she wears a bright red cloak, long and flowing against her back, and her hands, and forearms are covered in leather. _Such a shame_ , thought the wolf, he would have liked to see her skin; imagining how tantalizing it would be under his teeth was satisfying enough, _for now_.

The town’s lights made the wolf squint; he could hear the humans in the distance and decided to stop suddenly. The creature would come back, he was sure of it; it was in fact the only road to and from the town that she strode along. She had to leave again and when she did, the beast would follow.

The creature turned only partially and the beast saw nothing of her face, but he drew breath as glimpsed her hair, a light red, so shiny and soft looking. The beast longed to touch her, feel her softness under him; a yearning struck within him that moment, a deep need to claim her for himself.

This little thing cloaked in red, such a soft pure creature he did desire; he would have her _, his Little Red._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My amazingly patient and wonderful beta [Veronica](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vafrous_Vee/profile) edited each chapter and helped me keep consitency as always. 
> 
> Ashley = Biblical, meaning ‘from the ash tree’
> 
> \--
> 
> Inspirations for the story are, the [original Grimm fairy tale](http://sparks.eserver.org/books/grimm-fairytales.pdf), [this poem](http://chaoticroad.tumblr.com/post/63201488443) and [this](http://mermaidblues.tumblr.com/post/49638713078/the-small-girl-smiles-one-eyelid-flickers-she) incredible graphic!
> 
> Contact me here or on [tumblr](http://blaiddfenrisulfr.tumblr.com/).


	2. Carving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The young prince Hollow had followed an enchantress into the forbidden wood; she was gorgeous and seductive, luring him deep into the forest to an ancient place where he succumbed to her charms.” Lydia pauses to point to the second panel of drawings.
> 
>  
> 
> “And yes Allison that is what it looks like.” 
> 
>  
> 
> “Yes I see that they are - engaged.” 
> 
>  
> 
> “In vigorous sex.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Lydia, yes - I see, alright, just continue will you?”

She opens her front door to find a young courier ready to hand her a message; she smirks at him making him blush shyly before taking the letter and giving him a quick thanks, then retreating into the warmth of her home.

 

The letter was obviously from her best friend, the Argent family seal stamped in crimson on the back of the letter; and she hastily opened it excited for an excuse to escape her lackluster job as a seamstress in the small town she lived. It had been nearly a month since her last trip to Brandon Capital, to visit Allison, and she felt her heart quicken at the prospect of travelling to the luxurious capital.

 

She grabs the closest sharp object and breaks open seal;

 

_Dearest Lydia,_

_I desperately need you to travel to the Capital as soon as you can; I need your seamstress expertise to help me create a new uniform for my royal hunter duties! I know, it must seem like an excuse to see my best friend, but really I need your skills as a designer, not to mention your help translating some interesting carvings we found in the forbidden wood recently. Queen Hale requires the carvings to be translated as quickly as possible and I assured her you would be up to the task. Travel to Brandon as soon as you are able, much love to my greatest friend._

_Your Huntress_

_A mysterious carving from the dark wood?_  Lydia smirks deeply at the idea; of course she’d be up to the task.

 

Allison always seemed to know just when Lydia was bored to tears, and the amazing friend she was had already had a job for her, to occupy her cunning mind.

 

Gathering materials for Allison’s new uniform was easy enough, and she was sure the castle in Brandon Capital would have everything she needed to translate the carving, so she could forgo with carrying too much. She need not slow herself down, especially considering half of the path to the capital was nearer to the forest than she’d like.

 

The strange howling was brought to the front of her mind as she packed her things and headed for the road; she’d read and heard stories about the forest and the beasts that lurk within. She was of course curious about their origins, their kind, skills and natures, but she was more interested in staying among the living than to do something as thick as venturing into the woods.

 

\--

 

“I am here to see the Lady Allison.” Lydia says sternly to the older man who answers the Argent’s door.

 

The older man steps aside and gestures for Lydia to enter the estate, taking her bags as she enters.

 

“Lydia!” She looks up the grand staircase to see Allison taking two steps at a time down the large stair.

 

“Ally.”  Lydia smiles in reply to her friend’s excitement. The older man slinked out of the room to allow the girl’s some privacy.

 

Allison wastes no time after hopping off the landing, running gracefully across the room and gripping Lydia in her embrace.

 

“Allison- your hair is _suffocating_ me.”

 

“Oh, sorry.” Allison giggles as she pulls away, “You’ve been away too long, really when are you going to just give in and move to the capital with me?”

 

“As soon as you secure me a proper job here.” Lydia says resisting the urge to roll her eyes; she saunters past Allison and heads for the middle of the room taking in the glamorous estate once more.

 

High ceilings and spacious rooms, a stone estate of a long and socialist history; the massive chandelier that hangs above Lydia always took her breath away, not that she’d ever admit it. Allison was truly living the life, and Lydia couldn’t wait to join her in the grandiose capital.

 

“Speaking of which,” Allison says interrupting Lydia’s fantasies, “The armory is this way, I can show you the old royal uniform there.”

 

Lydia raises her brow curiously at Allison and smiles before following her down an airy corridor off the foyer; the armory is three doors down from the entry hall and just as massive as every other room in the house. Unlike the rest of the house however, its high ceilings were made entirely of stone; two story archways covered the ceiling from the front to the back of the room.

 

There are smaller archways that lead to the right of the room, alcoves, equipped with large tables and shelves covering the walls; stacked with weapons of every type. The room is surprisingly well lit, and not a cobweb or speck of dirt in sight.

 

“Your family…” Lydia drawls quietly gesturing to the weapons.

 

“Wha-oh, yes we have a great deal of weapons Lydia, you know very well how long and prestigious my family’s history is.”

 

“Yes, yes. The great and noble Argent family…” Lydia says quirking a brow as she trails her delicate fingers along a crossbow.

 

“The great and noble Argent’s, hunters of the highest skill and bravery; the first humans in the history of this land to willingly enter The Hollow Forest and fight the ancient monsters that dwell within…” Allison trails on the short history of her family with a mock self-importance.

 

“Well, your family is certainly brave,” Lydia says spinning around to see Allison hovering in the alcove, “Entering those woods, I mean. After everything I’ve read, it seems quite…”

 

“Suicidal?” Allison scoffs.

 

“I was going to say, noble, but _that_ too.” Lydia smiles.

 

“Well, that’s going to be me soon, suicidally brave, courageous _and_ self-sacrificing.” Allison raises a fist in triumph then sighs dropping her hand to her side.

 

“You’ll be great you know; you’re the greatest archer in your family, cunning, quick minded and graceful. You know I don’t usually convey this amount of flattery Allison, but then it isn’t _just_ flattery. Besides, you won’t be alone in the woods; you’ll have a whole team of hunters and royal knights at your back.”

 

“I know, I know, and I appreciate it Lydia, truly. I’m not scared, I’m just worried - I guess? I want to do well, not just survive my first trip into The Hollow Forest, but actually, _prove_ myself.” Allison sighs lightly.

 

“Self-doubt is unattractive you know.” Lydia says flatly examining her nail beds.

 

Allison looks up wide-eyed and Lydia meets her eyes, dropping the façade she cracks into a sly smirk; Allison just giggles and Lydia laughs haughtily before shifting her weight off the shelf she’d been leaning against and making her way toward Allison.

 

“Let’s do away with all this worry, because we both know you’re going to survive and save all those other hunter’s asses-“

 

“ _Lydia_!”

 

“Shush-and you’ll do it all without even trying, so stop over thinking and let’s see that old uniform.”

 

\----

 

“It’s hideous-really who designed this?” Allison hides a grin as she watches Lydia circle the tailor's dummy with her old hunter’s uniform on it, “Did your mother have to wear this?” Lydia holds out an arm of the shirt with a look of disgust on her face.

 

“Yes, she did, so did my aunt I think.”

 

“You are never wearing it, you hear me? _Never._ I wouldn’t even _bury_ somebody in this garbage.”

 

Allison laughs lightly shaking her head and stifling the rest of her laughter with a tight closed mouth.

 

“Alright, as loathe as I am to even say this…” Lydia sighs, “You’re going to have to- **no** , I’ll just have to use my imagination, I truly would not wish my greatest enemy to wear this-“ She scoffs, “and never would I force my friend to wear it. No, I need my sketch book-redesigning this from scratch would be a true pleasure.”

 

Lydia nods before giving the garment a last look and shuddering, spinning her long curls away from it.

 

“Alright, I-uh, I’ll get it for you.”

 

“Can I burn this?”

 

“Lydia NO!” Allison spins back to her friend in fear, “No, you may not burn it, it’s a family heirloom-my mom and my aunt and even my grandmother wore it, it’s priceless my dad would kill us both-“

 

“Alright, alright fine, I understand. You can go, really I promise not to burn it into dust the moment you turn you back.”

 

“You won’t burn it into dust _at all_ , right Lyds?”

 

Lydia sighs, looking resigned she says, “Fine, I promise I won’t burn it at all, not even a little, not even the atrocious ruffles; I swear.”

 

“Good.”

 

Lydia raises both brows haughtily, “Well, get to it.” She _demands_.

 

“Whose house is this again?” Allison smirks making Lydia roll her eyes, “I’ll be right back.”

 

\--

 

Watching Lydia work is truly a spectacle; her grace, finesse and determination is something to marvel at. The senior seamstress Lydia worked for in Ashley really didn’t deserve her; obviously she was more skilled than Allison had ever realized, she could see that now.

 

The room was in slow motion, but Lydia was moving at lightning speed; deep green and brown cloths and leathers seemed to float around the room, only stilling when Lydia reached for them. The grace and precision at which Lydia worked wasn’t anything to scoff at; and in what seemed like no time at all she had a tailor’s dummy ready for Allison to scrutinize.

 

“So?” Lydia stood next to the dummy, hand placed firmly on her hip, not a single curl of strawberry blonde hair out of place.  

 

“Oh- uh, let me see…” Allison hops off the table she’d been sitting on and walks carefully toward the dummy, Lydia’s gaze following her every move.

 

It was beautiful, but not too flashy or bright like some of the gorgeous things that Lydia wore. It was dark and Allison knew instantly how easily it would blend into the tones of the forest; light enough for flexibility but heavy enough to protect her against the beasts of the woods.

 

The breastplate is leather instead of steel, a deep brown tone; the sleeves tight and wrapped with thin strips of leather nearest the wrists. The braces were only slightly lighter than the rest of the top and what seemed to be a harder type of leather than the sleeves, closer to that of the breastplate; the gloves were simple leather, and would fit easily under the braces. Leather pauldrons were a lighter almost green tone, also leather with small spikes on the left shoulder; defensible but light enough to still lift her bow comfortably.

 

The belt was a deep brown, darker than everything else; it held a variety of pouches and loops for extra weaponry such as the small ring daggers Allison liked to carry. The pants were two toned, beginning as a deep brown close to the color of the belt and fading to a lighter brown; quilted near the ends of the legs and form-fitting to the body. Finally the boots, the same tone as the ends of the pants, hard thick leather and wrapped around the ankles with the same thin strips of leather as the sleeves of the top.

 

“I’ll of course add some more color, maybe some deep greens, though I prefer you in purple. Then your family crest has to be stitched into the armor parts, and I’ll need to fix the gloves too.”

 

“Fix them?”

 

“Yes, your archery gloves, with some of the fingers exposed? This is armor just for you right, so it has to be tailored to suit _your_ fighting style.”

 

“I-Lydia, it’s perfect!” Allison can’t help but lunge forward to wrap her arms around Lydia. “Thanks so much, really, you’re amazing!”

 

“I know that, but its nice hearing other people say it from time to time. Alright, your hair again-really Allison maybe some warning next time?”

 

“You’re just going to have to deal with it for now.” Lydia sighs and Allison just rocks back and forth giggling.

 

“Alright, that’s enough now, I still have a lot to do with this armor you know.”

 

“OK, OK.” Allison says, pulling back from the hug grinning wholeheartedly.

 

“It’ll be at least another few hours to finish the details, and I imagine you’ll want to try it on right away-so, let’s take a short break and have a look at that carving.”

 

“OK, follow me, it’s in the library.”

 

\--

 

“Unfortunately it’s not the real carving, just a copy of the text and hieroglyphs. Hopefully that’s not a problem?”

 

“As long as the copy is flawless it shouldn’t be.”

 

“Queen Hale’s royal scribe did it himself, and you know how good his work is.”

 

“Stiles? Well, it should be perfect then.”

 

“You know he keeps asking if you’re ever going to get a job at the palace, apparently he’s put in a good word for you, and you _know_ I have.”

 

“You know full well I have to finish my commission with the Lady Blake before I can claim a job in the capital Allison.”

 

“Yes, of course. Well, I hope you can finish it soon, is all.”

 

\----

 

Two floors, thousands of books in faultless order; spacious and designed from the ceiling to the floor for both style and comfort; Lydia could not express how envious she was of the Argent’s library.

 

“Should I leave you to it and get us something to eat?”

 

“Ohh yes, I am famished.” Lydia remarks seriously before making herself comfortable at the central desk.

 

“Perfect, I’ll go get the kitchen staff to make us something then, oh and I was supposed to go talk with my father about something-so I’ll be awhile I think. Enjoy your scholarly work.” Allison smiles canting her head before turning and striding out of the room, leaving Lydia to her work.

 

The carving is reportedly made of tree bark, at least that’s what Stiles’ notes stated; large hard oak, something called Rowan Oak to be specific. The hieroglyphs were stunning; some text could be seen, but Lydia would look at it more closely after examining the drawings.

 

From what she could gather of the drawings Stiles copied for her, the carving told of a story about a man, possibly a prince or noble judging by his crown; he’d been lured by a maiden into the depths of the forest, where they-

 

“Oh”. Lydia quirks her head as she observes what seemed to be passionate love making, “That’s surprisingly detailed…”

 

Lydia pushes herself closer to the parchments, turning to the next segment and continuing to trail her fingers along the drawings.

 

After their fervor the man lay asleep, and the woman produced a dagger and stabbed the prince in the chest. Her betrayal was an obvious surprise to the man; she laughed as he died, and the carvings continued to show the woman leave the forest.

 

However, the man was not dead, in fact he seemed not to be a man at all; the copied images of the carving showed the man transform into a beast, what resembled a large wolf. He howled at the moon in the next segment, and there were no words, unlike the rest of the images.

 

The last parchment was a handwritten note seemingly written by Stiles to Lydia.

 

_Lady Lydia,_

_Anti-climactic I know, but unfortunately the remainder of the carving, the rest of the story, was destroyed. The carving itself is pretty massive, carved into the trunk of a six foot tall tree, but what I’d estimate is at least half of the carving was cut in half and the end of the bark was clawed to pieces. I’m pretty depressed about it, so I can imagine how you feel. Let me know how the translation goes, because I already translated it. Yes, you’re right in assuming this translation job is a test, one I wasn’t supposed to tell you about, but you know I just had to gloat. I already have some theories about the story’s origins, but I’m interested to hear what you make of it._

_Royal Scribe,_

_Stiles Stilinski_

 

He’d crossed out what seemed to be his actual signature of his real name; _Stiles_ being only a nickname, Lydia had long been attempting to find out his actual first name, but Stiles was particularly tight lipped about it. Surprising, considering how talkative he usually was.

 

 

Lydia shook her head, going back to the first segment of the carvings to study the text.

 

 

“Latin, no- _Archaic_ Latin.”

 

Lydia had no doubts Stiles had already translated the story, but she did wonder why it was the Queen wanted to test her skills in linguistics; she already had a talented scribe, why would she need a second?

 

She shelved the thoughts for the time being, allowing her mind to clear and focus solely on the translation. Taking a new parchment and dipping her quill in the small jar of ink next to her she put her mind and body to work.

 

\--

 

“Lydia?”

 

“Busy.”

 

“Oh…well you said you were hungry and I know it took awhile, but I had to talk with my father.”

 

“Yes Allison I remember you saying, and?” Lydia finished writing a few letters and sat back slightly before quelling her pen back into the jar of black ink.

 

“You _are_ taking a break?” Allison asks.

 

“Yes, I am _ravenous_! What did you get us?”

 

\--

 

“How is the translation going?” Allison asks dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

 

“You know, when you wrote to me about this I thought it was going to be some indecipherable language that the beasts in the woods invented themselves, and _now_ I find that it’s only Archaic Latin.”

 

“ _Only_ Archaic Latin.” Allison scoffs shaking her head.

 

“Yes, _only_. Really, the Queen could have given me something challenging, never mind the fact that Stiles can read Archaic Latin with ease.” Lydia says putting down her empty plate of food and shaking her head.

 

“Wait-are you saying that this was already-“

 

“Already translated, that’s right.”

 

“So this was all some sort of test?”

 

“That’s what Stiles’ note said; though I can’t think of a reason why the Queen would want to test me this way, she already has a royal scribe at her beck and call, well, when he’s not fondling her brother.”

 

Allison nearly chokes on her food, “Lydia!”

 

“What? They fondle, _a lot_ from what I hear.”

 

“Stop it.” Allison smiles and puts down her plate.

 

“Fine. Prude.”

 

“Ugh!” Allison scoffs.

 

“So, did you want me to read you this story or not?”

 

“You finished translating it _already_?” Allison asks bewildered.

 

“Of course I did, like I said it’s just Archaic Latin, I could have translated it in my sleep. Now, listen up Ally, because I won’t be reading it twice.”

 

Allison nods and pulls her knees to her body as Lydia lifts the pictures Stiles traced and clears her throat; Allison looks completely engaged and Lydia smirks to herself before beginning the retelling.

 

“The young prince Hollow had followed an enchantress into the forbidden wood; she was gorgeous and seductive, luring him deep into the forest to an ancient place where he succumbed to her charms.” Lydia pauses to point to the second panel of drawings.

 

“And yes Allison that is what it looks like.”

 

“Yes I see that they are - engaged.”

 

“In _vigorous_ sex.”

 

“Lydia, yes - I see, alright, just continue will you?”

 

“Fine. The woman was not what she had seemed however and the man, senses dulled by his recent ecstasy with the maiden, was then shocked out of his bliss by terrible pain. The temptress had pierced the prince with her hidden dagger; she thrust the blade deep into his chest and laughed like a wicked fiend as he bled to death.”

 

“Wow.” Allison whispers.

 

“The woman fled the forest, cackling in victory as the man’s eyes dulled and his heart ceased to beat. However-“

 

 Lydia put down the panel and focused Allison’s attention on the next.

 

“The man was not at all what he seemed either; he was but a beast in the skin of a man. He withdrew the blade from his chest and licked clean the steel of his blood; he stood and turned into something monstrous. Fur grew over his skin, covering his body in a dark pelt; his teeth elongated into sharp fangs and his ears sharpened into long points. His face contorted into that of a canine; his limbs bent and dropped him to the earthen ground, his toe and fingernails grew into jagged and sharp tipped claws.”

 

“Looks like, a werewolf…”

 

“Yes I believe so, now shush.” Lydia demands and Allison snaps shut her open mouth and rests her head atop her knees in response.

 

The room was silent as Lydia turned to the last panel of the story; Allison studies the drawing of the wolf howling at the full moon hanging overhead, his betrayal, his fury could be felt by anyone observing the image.

 

Lydia sighs then puts down the last panel and sits back down, taking a deep breath and looking at the images set upon the desk.

 

“What, that’s it?”

 

“Yes, sadly the rest of the carving was lost. Well, actually it seems that it was deliberately destroyed. Stiles wrote that it was _clawed_ to pieces.”

 

“So, the prince of the story must have done it then? But why…”

 

“Who knows?”

 

“Maybe, _maybe_ it was too painful, after he finished it he couldn’t bear to have anyone else know the story?” Allison finishes, now chewing the tips of her nail.

 

“What did I tell you about chewing your nails Allison?” To Lydia’s satisfaction Allison drops her hand immediately and lets her head find the top of her knees again.

 

“As for your theory, that sounds like something someone _that_ pained might do.” Lydia agrees, “Anything else you gathered from the story? Any clues as to who the prince might have been perhaps?”

 

“Well…he was a werewolf and a royal which means - he might have been part of the Hale family.” Allison says slowly; Lydia simply smiles.

 

“If he was, then that would explain why the Queen would want this translated.”

 

“Because it’s part of her family history.” Allison says nodding.

 

“Exactly.” Lydia nods back settling fully into her chair, “Maybe she has a hunting party ready to search the woods for the prince, or at least more of the carvings.”

“No way, it’s - hundreds of years old right? He’s dead and gone by now.”

 

“Yes, seems that way. Well, hopefully we can get some more of the prince’s history from the forest at some point. I’m sure the queen in interested in it, why else would she have two separate people translate it? It could be for authenticities sake, but I’m sure she’d trust Stiles’ work enough not to warrant any outside help.”

 

“It’s a little strange.”

 

Lydia nods, “So, what did your father want to talk about anyway?”

 

“Oh, it’s just the mission strategy; we’re supposed to go collect some druid that’s been hidden away in the forest for the past five years. He’s apparently some important man, an emissary to the Hale family, and he’s due back so my party has been tasked to retrieve him.”

 

“Hm, sounds kind of- mediocre actually.”

 

“Well, he’s pretty deep into the Hollow according to my father; he was _very_ stern about me being vigilant.”

 

“What knights and hunters are they sending with you, do you know?”

 

“Oh, it’ll be, Knight Commander Boyd, Knight McCall, Knight Reyes and Hunter Lahey.”

 

“McCall huh? Interesting.”

 

“Why is that interesting?”

 

“Allison, please I’m your best friend, I know how you feel about the young knight.”

 

“No you _don’t_.”

 

“Yes in fact I do, you have a crush on the man, and I completely support it. He’s brave, handsome, and kindhearted, not to mention the fact he carries a torch for you as well. “

 

“I do not have - he likes me?”

 

“Ugh, Allison, really last time I checked you do have eyes, and anyone with them could see how absolutely in love with you he is.”

 

“Really?” Allison smiles cutely and shies away from Lydia’s gaze.

 

“You should probably be careful though.”

 

“Wait, why? I thought you liked him?”

 

“I do, however it seems Lahey does too.”

 

“Wait, he - oh.” Allison looks worried for all of a second before her face hardens into her usual frightening amount of determination, “He’ll just have to fight me for him then.”

“That’s my girl.”

 

\----

 

_Where, where is that delicious girl?_

 

She’s kept him waiting, the beast is patient, but it’s been such a long time since he was able to spy her grace, taste her sugary scent across the air. He had to see her again.

 

He’d cleaned himself so well, his muzzle is dry and soft, and he even changed forms though he was sure he looked less than presentable in his human body. He’d need to shave, trim his unkempt hair and find himself some human clothes; he didn’t remember how they felt, though the word _constricting_ came to mind. Regardless he needed to cover himself. He must be a gentleman; his flaxen haired lamb deserved nothing less.

 

The wolf growls at himself as he stalks back to his den. He’d been late, he had slept in and missed her; he knew she had been nearby recently, he could smell her sweetness on the path out of town. He growled darkly as he stalked the path under the moonlight. It was fine, he could wait, and he could endure.

 

His prey was worth the wait.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in less than three days? Well they are fairly short chapters so I think it's OK right? Anyway, some fluff and mystery in this chapter, enjoy.
> 
> Brandon = Teutonic, meaning ‘from the beacon hill’


	3. Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That night, woken from a particularly steamy dream featuring a beautiful dark haired princess, Lydia grumbles as she rises from her warm bed to take a gander outside. She peeks out the iced window only to be horrified into seeing a young boy from the town heading into the forest.

She’s coming, finally she’s here. The wolf grins in delight, his heart beating loudly in anxiety; he’d waited many long nights and days, all without sleep, waiting just for this moment. He ‘d found  a nice dark suit he’d stashed away years ago, his hair is clean, cut and his face shaven, the hair atop his head slicked back and suave; he was ready to see her.

 

There, walking down the wintry path with her gleaming fire colored hair and her bright red hood; she was humming some interesting tune, her voice just as sweet as he’d imagined. The wolf grunted a sound of approval at himself before stepping out of the forest ready to speak with her- _no, not now_ the wolf thought hearing the sudden and careful footsteps of people in his kingdom.

 

 _Not now;_ the wolf bristles in sheltered rage taking a last look at his charming Red Hood before slinking back into the tree line.

 

_Whoever they are they are dead._

“Dead!” The wolf growls aloud before peeling off his human clothes and stashing them in the hollow of a tree nearby.

 

Shedding his human form takes only minutes and he is off; his unbridled fury scares away any other creatures in his path as he storms through the forest to meet the trespassers who have ruined his reveal.

 

\--

 

“No, I’m telling you I heard something.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“Well, _I did_!”

 

“Ugh, Scott just quiet down alright! Are you trying to disturb the _entire_ forest?” The female whispers to the man dressed in shiny smooth rock- _no, steel armor that’s what it’s called_ , the wolf thought.

 

The beast stills against the underbrush staring at the party of creatures before him; three heavily armored beings- _wolves_? _Why-why would wolves be working alongside humans_ he wondered; another wolf, this time a ranger-a hunter, that makes two hunters, the other a female human.

 

“We have a scouting mission here, and I’d appreciate you all take it more seriously.” The dark haired one spoke sternly. “We have to make the path clear for the emissary tomorrow, so keep together and stay vigilant.” She finishes before moving ahead with the dark skinned one.

 

Taking in the sight of them, the wolf almost let his position be known as he spied a long blonde mane on one of the armored wolves; _no, it’s not her, she’s dead and buried,_ the wolf nods to himself before glaring at the gathering of creatures.

 

“Just listen…” The one called _Scott_ said.

 

“I already told you I don’t hear any-“

 

“Do any of you feel as though we’re being watched?”

 

“Damnit Isaac I was talking!”

 

“And aren’t you the one who just told Scott to be quiet lest you alert the entirety of the forest to our presence?” The curly haired archer smirks slyly at the blonde and the wolf can’t help liking him a little for it.

 

“Ugh!” The blonde exasperates before promptly turning her back on the sneering archer.

 

The dark skinned boulder of a man and the dark haired archer are ahead of the others, scouting it seemed; they looked like a good team, quiet and ever watchful. The wolf realizes he’d half to remove them quickly and let the others cower in fear for a few moments before picking them off one by one. As he readies himself to move into a better vantage point a creature smelling similar to him, breaks his concentration.

 

The scene erupts; every knight and hunter taking up arms ready to kill as a creature launches out of the underbrush opposite the wolf. _Werecoyote_ , the wolf notices with intrigue; he had not seen one of them in some time, they rarely trespassed in his territory.

 

This was all very interesting of course, but he had no further curiosity; he could guess why the hunters were here and how long they would be. They would move to the North of their current position, not at all venturing further into his kingdom; mystical creatures claimed the land North and these beings were obviously here for the druid man.  He need not worry himself with their mission; as long as they stayed away from him and his territory their duties did not concern him.

 

The wolf stalks away from the creatures, proud of himself for being able to do so without alerting anyone to his existence. Though he wasn’t too surprised considering they did not notice him even before their current distraction made itself present; _what sniveling pups they are_ , the wolf thought as he raced for his stash of human clothes.

 

 _Maybe the coyote will devour them. That would be entertaining. Perhaps I should return to the area later to see what became of the group?_ The wolf grins to himself as he reaches within the nook to retrieve his garments.

 

Tomorrow, the wolf would meet her once more; he did not yet know how to lure her within the forest, but he must find a way. He could hardly wait any longer. He longed to rip away her crimson cloak, the bright red fabric that so taunted him; to smell her sweetness up close and taste her fear on his tongue, he needed to taste her still beating heart to quench his inner darkness.

 

He longed to taste innocence once more, if he could never claim it for himself, then he could take it from someone else.

 

\----

 

“What the-“ Reyes whispers, her dual swords at the ready, waiting for the creature to charge.

 

“Wait!” McCall yells suddenly, taking a hand away from his hilt and gesturing that he would sheath it if the beast would still its fangs.

 

“Scott, seriously are you _trying_ to die?” Reyes says mockingly.

 

“Can’t you tell - it’s not a coyote, it’s a girl under the fur.”

 

“Yeah Erica, use your nose.” Lahey chastises.

 

“Wow, its - hey, I’m not an imbecile, I was simply caught up in the moment, alright.”

 

Allison couldn’t help rolling her eyes at the lot of them; she moves quietly her bow never lowering as she stalks behind the coyote, Boyd at her right ready to strike.

 

At least someone other than herself had the good sense to remain at the ready; Knight McCall was a goodhearted man, but his ability to see the good in everyone, sometimes put him further into danger.

 

The coyote growls menacingly as Allison and Boyd approach, its glowing blue eyes glaring at them from the corner of its eyes. Allison nods to Boyd and he also stops advancing on the creature; if they could avoid confrontation, then they would, this was a scouting mission not an extermination order. The royals rarely gave out any order of extermination, but they remained neutral to the beasts of the forest, knowing that not all were still human enough to be negotiated or allied with.

 

Allison kept this in mind, hoping the others would do the same; she did however give the creature the benefit of the doubt, after all if even one of her wolf companions could still smell her humanity, then the coyote might not attempt to kill them.

 

“Malia!”

 

The group turns their heads in confusion after hearing someone running toward the clearing; some of them aimed their weapons at the newcomer as she leaps over a tree trunk and lands firmly on her feet, standing now in the clearing with the rest of them.

 

“Uh…hi?”

 

“Hello.” McCall says cheerfully and Allison can’t help but smirking at his friendliness.

 

“Who are you?” Boyd asks the newcomer neutrally.

 

“Oh-uh, I’m Kira Yukimura, uh, actually _Rikugun Shōsa_ Kira Yukimura of the2nd great Imperial Army.”

 

“Liar.” Knight Reyes smirks.

 

“What? No, I-uh-“

 

“Which is it Knight Reyes, is she lying about her name or her rank?” Allison asks, her bow taut and aimed at the coyote.

 

“Rank for sure, Kira is her name, but the last name was a little-shaky.” Reyes replies slyly.

 

“What’s _her_ name?” Allison asks tipping her head down in the coyote’s direction.

 

“Oh-Malia, her name is Malia. She’s really uh - not this mean, honestly, it’s just that she’s being protective.”

 

“Of you, you mean?” McCall asks.

 

“Uh, sort of - mostly Deaton actually.”

 

“Wait, that’s the name of the emissary to the royal family, you know him?” Lahey asks, bewildered.

 

“Yes, Malia and I have been living with him actually, and protecting him from some of the other creatures in the forest.”

 

“Oh, well, can you take us to him? I promise we’re not going to harm him, we were actually sent by Queen Laura to retrieve him, though we were supposed to return tomorrow after our scouting mission to do it.” McCall asks sincerely.

 

“He told us about you. Hang on…”

 

Kira looks down at Malia and their eyes meet, Allison realizes their communicating once Malia nods once and stops her growling instantly.

 

“Alright, come back tomorrow then, we’ll talk to Deaton and tell him to start packing and we’ll meet you at the edge of the forest around midday. How does that work?” Kira asks earnestly.

 

Everyone looks to their captains, Boyd and Allison, who look at each other for a minute before nodding in concert.

 

“That should work. I do ask one thing however,” Allison looks at the young Japanese girl and the coyote, “That your companion shows up in human form.”

 

Malia grumbles, “Yes, she will.” The coyote sniffs at Kira, “She _will_.”

 

“Good.” Allison finally drops her bow to hover above her thighs, “We will meet tomorrow then, and you will lead us to Emissary Deaton?”

 

“Exactly, he’ll be ready to go then.”

 

“Alright, tomorrow, we will meet at the north west edge of the forest.” Allison says firmly.

 

“Perfect. It was really nice meeting you all.” Kira says and Allison notes that her words seem genuine.

 

\--

 

“Well, that was weird.” Lahey says suddenly, and everyone just laughs or giggles aloud, breaking the silent tension of the group that had followed them as they exited the forest.

 

“You said it Lahey.” Reyes laughs punching his shoulder lightly.

 

“Well at least we can stop worrying about the dangers now, I mean we have two guides, that’s pretty fortunate don’t you think Hunter Captain Argent?”

 

“It is Knight Lieutenant McCall, _very_ fortunate for us that we happened upon them.”

 

“I wonder if you guys are that formal when you feel each other up in the dark corners of the castle?” Reyes sneers.

 

“Reyes!” Allison yells in shock; Boyd actually snorts at the remark.

 

“Watch out _Hunter Captain_ , your formalities are slippin’, and you all know it’s true, _hell_ even Boyd-the-Void thinks so.”

 

“Reyes.” Boyd warns.

 

“Oh shush my big manly man, you know I’m just playing.” Reyes says sauntering over to Boyd and wrapping her arms around his torso as they make their way to the carriage.

 

McCall and Allison never look at each other at the same time on the ride back to Brandon Capital.

 

\----

 

_Dearest Allison,_

_It’s utterly ridiculous that you’d even ask me that. Truly; you need simply make it known to Knight McCall that you intend to court him. It’s not unheard of you know, a woman courting someone, for example, I know Princess Cora is attracted to women, at least according to Stiles. Lady Blake is but another great example to this type of courting, as you rightly know she is mated to a female Alpha werewolf called Kali. She is a lovely woman, though rather territorial as most alphas are. Please, just heed my advice and let the man know; you already know he cares for you, if the fact he did not laugh at Reyes comment did not clue you in._

_Now, stop wallowing in self doubt and get going. You have a mission today and I know it’ll go exactly as planned. Now, your next letter best include some more details on your blossoming relationship with the good Knight Lieutenant McCall and of course some juicy gossip about those two girls from the woods._

_Yours,_

_Lydia_

She wasn’t joking about self doubt being unattractive; really must she hold Ally’s hand with everything? If she wasn’t such an incredible friend she’d do away with all the drama, simply wash her hands of it all.

 

 _Oh, who am I kidding?_ Lydia loves the gossip, knowing everything she can about everyone she can; besides Allison was her only true friend in the world, the only one that mattered.

 

To Lydia’s surprise Stiles was becoming her friend as well it seemed; after she translated the carving Queen Laura thanked her personally and allowed her to take a room within the castle. Lydia and Stiles shared many meals together trading much history and gossip with one another, and since she had returned to her home they had traded three letters each with intellectual debates and a trove of romantic rumors around the castle.

 

 Stiles was particularly vocal about his thoughts of Princess Cora which Lydia was at first wholly uninterested in; until of course Stiles clued her in to the fact that Her Highness was unmated and seeking a woman’s affections, and that he believed she’d taken a liking to Lydia.

 

\--

 

That night, woken from a particularly steamy dream featuring a beautiful dark haired princess, Lydia grumbles as she rises from her warm bed to take a gander outside. She peeks out the iced window only to be horrified into seeing a young boy from the town heading into the forest.

 

She grabs the small dagger Allison had gifted her years ago in honor of her finishing her training with her and pulls on warmer clothes and her favorite red cloak before heading out into the freezing cold of the evening.

 

“Stupid child, what is he thinking?” Lydia whispers as she jogs across to the town’s road and follows the boy’s tracks to the edge of the forbidden forest.

 

She halts a foot from the tree line, her breath coming in long heaves; she stares into the black, the trees such a dark contrast to the pure white of the ground.

 

The forbidden forest was nothing to underestimate, and she would be a fool to simply run inside; she did not desire to be devoured by the beasts that lurk within the Hollow.

 

She could recall the tales in this moment, as she stood on the precipice of the abyss; the tales of great beasts covered in fur, with claws that could tear apart a man in seconds, the dark shapeshifters with eyes bright like the sun that could lure you into the dark with the faces of those you loved.

 

The lake that lay deep within the forest was littered with the bones of men who had been ensnared into the waters’ depths by the heavenly songs of magnificent mermaids, only to be gobbled up as the sirens shift before their very eyes, becoming hideous serpents with razor sharp teeth and slitted eyes.

 

In some parts of the forest the dark tree folk bring to life the very earth, piercing their victims with the branches of the trees and opening the ground beneath those that are smart enough to flee, allowing the earth to swallow them whole.

 

So many dark and grisly tales so many _actual_ victims and lost children; Lydia knew not all of the stories were true, but _some_ of them were. There were hunters for a reason, knights and rangers that were the honored protectors of the land, the only beings courageous enough to brave The Hollow Forest.

 

Lydia knew not all supernatural and magical beings were evil, after all their country was being ruled by an old and noble family of werewolves; but the forest was not called forbidden to scare little children into obedience, it was dangerous and ancient, an entirely separate world existed within the depths of it.

 

No one stayed long, only the lost and the damned would willingly claim the forest as their home.

 

The trees before her were like a great wall of ebony, so dark they were very nearly black; the moon hung low in the sky, luminous and grand above her, lighting her path to town with ease. But the glorious light would not touch the forest, the thick trees even now shielding the forest from Selene’s penetrating light, her light never shining into the dark of the woods.

 

“Forever dark.” Lydia whispers, reaching a hand to rest over her heart, “Calm down.”

 

She stands for several minutes that pull on like years, attempting to quiet her heart. She had to be rational, _and quick,_ she thought. She could not leave the boy alone in the woods; he would surely be killed or forever lost to its enchanting magic. No one deserved to be taken by the creatures in the forbidden forest; the foolish child least of all. He was but curious or possibly even lured from his bed by a siren’s song; he did not deserve to be devoured, though neither did Lydia.

 

Entering the woods alone was daft, and Lydia normally would never even entertain the thought, but on this night, she had no choice. She takes a deep breath and steps forward, raising her red hood and entering into the dark, willingly losing herself to its density.

\--

 

“It’s warmer?” Lydia marvels at the change in temperature; contrary to what she’d imagined, the forest is actually a good ten degrees warmer than outside of it.

 

Moving through the trees is simple enough, it is surprisingly clear of foliage and there seemed to be an actual path forward; she rarely diverted down a side path to avoid a fallen tree or underbrush. She wasn’t altogether surprised by the lack of snow within the forest; it was not completely uncovered, but mostly bare of the pure white snow of the rest of the land.

 

She could see shockingly well considering the moon’s rays of light barely shone through the tangles of branches above her head; the trees were much taller than they seemed from the outside as well, and some were fairly thin but many in number creating a labyrinth of dark limbs and trunks.

 

“Where is that boy?” Lydia huffs as she keeps her eyes shifting.

 

She follows what she could gather were his footsteps along the path she now walked; the ground was mostly dirt and harder for the naked eye to track upon, especially at night, however Allison had taught her a great deal about tracking and hunting over their long friendship.

 

The strange part, the one thing that really unnerved Lydia about this entire ordeal was the lack of other tracks. The boy’s tracks were fairly clear to her, but she could spot no small animal tracks, wolf or other beast, nothing. Just the boys’ and her own.

 

_He must have been lured in; why else would he enter the forest without struggle?_

Lydia stops suddenly and stills, realizing how foolish she’d been, how unobservant. There was no sound, not since she’d entered the dark woods; she heard not a rustle or the breaking of twigs, no flapping of wings or growling behind her.

 

She had heard only her own footsteps and the sound of her breathing, and still as she listened, she could hear nothing else. She hoped for a cricket, bushes rustling, anything at all to stow her growing fears. It wasn’t the boy, it was her.

 

It was Lydia that had been lured into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter! A bit of a cliffhanger I know, but the next chapter will be up in a few days. Some of the pack shows in this chapter including their ranks among the kingdom.


	4. Bad Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She hears a sudden crackling of twigs behind her and a speed of air surrounds her as though someone had swooped down from the trees only to snap at her feet. She wanted to scream at them to stop, but she knew that would be folly; running was her only option. 
> 
> Clawed hands sweep around her stomach to grip her tight and a rush of air swarms, her hair uselessly slapping her face as she is pulled away. The child screams as his hands slip from her grasp; she could feel herself being flipped, the claws still tight around her waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gets a little non-con, so here's your warning. Manipulation and trickery and a somewhat graphic depiction of violence I guess. Enjoy.

_What had lured her here, and for what purpose?_ _No_ , she thought, _it doesn’t matter_ , she must leave.

 

She turns, ready to bolt away when she hears movement behind her; she tells herself to go, to just run away, far away, but for some sickening reason she can’t move.

 

“Were you looking for this?” A silky voice inquires.

 

Lydia takes a short breath and turns around slowly, her body shaking and her heart thumping beneath her skin; she turns to face what looks like a man in a dark fitted suit, his hair slicked back and his face clean shaven. His eyes are as bright as the moon, but of a crimson red glow.

 

“Pardon?” Lydia whispers.

 

“The child?” The man raises his brows and tilts his head down, his eyes never leaving Lydia’s.

 

Attempting to keep his glowing stare in her sight, she ventures to look at his right hand; there, clasped by a smaller softer looking hand, the hand of a child.

 

“You - he was real.” Lydia realizes she might have been lured here, but at the very least it seemed the boy was _not_ a figment of her imagination.

 

The smooth tone of his voice and his nonthreatening stance did not fool Lydia. Not only did she have to worry about herself; the child and her, they both were in danger.

 

“You believed him to be a ghost, a mirage of your own imagining, or did you think he was a lure; that of some wicked beast intended to use to bring you within its web and devour you?”

 

Lydia remains silent allowing the creature to draw his own conclusions; he was in fact right, and Lydia now firmly believed him finding the child and bringing him to her was not a coincidence.

 

“Silence? Well, I did hope I could have a civil conversation with you or at the very least a thank you for finding the child. However, I see I shall receive no gratitude, so here girl, take the boy and go.” The creature lifts his arm, bringing the child’s with it in a gesture to allow her to take the child’s hand.

 

“Go - your letting us go?”

 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Because you - alright, come now boy, let’s leave. Thank the kind man for finding you.”

 

“Thank you, mister.” The boy says happily before letting his hand go and trading it for Lydia’s.

 

The moonlight chooses that moment to leak through the trees overhead, gracing the creature’s feature’s with it’s beautiful light; the man is not as young as he first appeared, Lydia could see he was a good deal older than her, and though his skin seemed rough, his face is perfectly serene as he looks up into the moon’s light.

 

“I am-“

 

The man begins to say, his voice monotone, but Lydia noted a hint of sadness in his tone.

 

“I am sorry.” It sounded like it was difficult for him to get out, and Lydia began to worry; not that she’d every truly stopped since entering the forest.

 

“Sorry for what?” Lydia asks evenly, trying to appear non-threatening as she reaches under her cloak for her dagger.

 

The boy began to shake so suddenly that Lydia stills and fixes her gaze on the creature. His face begins to change, at first she barely sees it, but then he begins growing hair on the sides of his face, and in seconds his jaw is lined with a thick coat of fur. He spasms, his head thrown back and forward so fast Lydia would have thought he’d broken his own neck with the speed and intensity of the movement.

 

He begins to growl, quietly at first but louder and louder as he drops to the ground; his back arching toward the sky, his suit ripping open to show his spine cracking and extending to accommodate for his growing mass. His body makes sickening sounds as though it was breaking apart; Lydia observes his legs becoming more like that of an animal, bending so his feet could rest easily on the ground, his newly clawed toes covering themselves in a dark coat of fur.

 

The beast starts to scream, lifting his head it becomes a roar as his facial features contort into a long snout; his mouth wide open showing off his glinting fangs. Impossibly his red eyes seemed to glow brighter as he shifts into the monstrosity before them; Lydia realizes then that she is simply standing there watching when she should in fact be running away.

 

“Run…” She whispers her eyes widening in horror, “RUN!” She yells at the boy, gripping their hands together and spinning them around.

 

Running with someone so much smaller than her was taxing, but she wouldn’t dare abandon the child; she would never forgive herself if something happened to the moron.

 

Lydia thought they were making good distance, and she knew they were heading in the right direction, but she heard nothing behind them and it terrified her to think what that could mean.

 

“Don’t look back, just keep running!” She yells, to herself or the boy she wasn’t sure, but they were nearly there now, so close she could see the snow through the tree line. _We’re almost home free._

She hears a sudden crackling of twigs behind her and a speed of air surrounds her as though someone had swooped down from the trees only to snap at her feet. She wanted to scream at them to stop, but she knew that would be folly; running was her only option.

 

Clawed hands sweep around her stomach to grip her tight and a rush of air swarms, her hair uselessly slapping her face as she is pulled away. The child screams as his hands slip from her grasp; she could feel herself being flipped, the claws still tight around her waist.

 

Her hair was thankfully thrown to the side, no longer obstructing her vision; she was now on her stomach on the cold hard ground, breathing in dirt. Though she was held firmly under the beasts’ grasp, literally under the weight of him, she could still see out of one of her eyes; and with it she could see the child cowering and shaking uncontrollably to her left.

 

The beast seemed only to care for her at the moment, and even though the wind had been knocked out of her she tried to yell at the boy; thankfully and for some unknown reason the beast shifted its weight, relieving some of the pressure on her lungs.

 

“RUN! Go, get help, JUST GO!” She screams, her voice hoarse but still strong enough to scare the boy out of his catatonia.

 

The boy gave her a pleading look before turning and running. _Stupid boy._

 

“I bet you were unaware of this fact my sweet red hooded girl,” Lydia shudders as the beast breathes his hot stale breath against her cheek, “But I am able to speak, even in this form. Marvelous is it not? Though I imagine you do not think so, _I certainly_ do. It would be a shame for you not to hear all of the kind things I have to say to you.”

 

“Kind - like, what?” Lydia huffs out harshly.

 

“Oh, how sweet you are, how sweet smelling and-“ The beast leans forward and lets his tongue loll from his jaw to lick a stripe down her cheek, “tasting…you have no idea how good you taste my dear.”

 

“What do you want - beast?”

 

“Oh, now there is no need to call me such things, I am a wolf and you may call me Mister Wolf or just Wolf, whatever you prefer.”

 

“And if I prefer Monster?”

 

“Well, I suppose I can handle a few pet names.” The wolf replies, raucously.

 

The wolf uses his legs to pin down Lydia, leaning back slightly to hover above her back; he brandishes a single clawed finger and strokes it down her cheek gently before breathing so hard his hot breath tingles under her hair to force the hair on her neck to stand.

 

“Ah yes, nice things to say; I have many more compliments for you my dear little red. So many; you see I’ve been watching you for some time now. Though I doubt you ever knew.”

 

“Oh? Is that right, well, I wish you would have came around sooner then.”

 

“Oh really?” The wolf says flatly, his red eyes glowing ravenously in the moonlight.

 

Lydia stares up at him, trying her best to get a better view of his position; trying to figure out a way to get him far enough away that she’d have a chance to break the tree line. She hoped she was right in assuming he wouldn’t leave the forest; she was counting on it.

 

“Yes. I get so lonely in the town sometimes; everyone is so boring and _safe_.”

 

“Is that so?” The wolf cocks his head.

 

“Why yes, I’ve always wanted someone to come and steal me away from that quiet little town; and I’ve always had such a fascination with the beasts of the forest.”

 

Of course all of this was true, though in another context, suited for the wolf’s ears. She had to tell the truth, he would know if she was lying, her heartbeat even her smell would betray her.

 

“Well then you are in luck my darling, I am the wolf that desires to steal you away.”

“The bad wolf, the _big_ bad wolf? Come to take me away?” Lydia’s voice drips honey, and she hopes it disguises her fear.

 

“You ran from me, dear, why should I believe your honeyed words?” She wouldn’t allow him to see through this deceit, he had to believe her.

 

“I wanted nothing more than for us to be alone, for the child to escape.” A stutter in her heart, a single uptick and she’d be done for.

 

“Truly?”

 

Lydia nods, hopeful her coup was working.

 

“Well then, perhaps I should do away with this form; take on a more appealing one for my darling red? How would you like that?”

 

“Very much.”

 

“Anything else you’d like? To run away perhaps?” The wolf modulates.

 

“I would prefer it if I could see you actually, perhaps I could turn over to face you?” She arches her backside into his groin hoping to appease him enough to allow her request.

 

“Ahh, _that_ I can do.” The wolf’s voice hums approval as he shifts enough to turn her over.

 

He closes his eyes and raises his head to the moonlight and she watches in true fascination as his fur fades away retreating into his flesh, disguising his true nature perfectly; his now soft looking skin shown pale and luminous in the light as he exhales slowly enough that his body shifts back into his human form before he’s finished breathing.

 

He breathes again and drops his head toward her suddenly, his red eyes snapping open and his face cracking into a terrible grin.

 

\----

 

 ** _This is wrong_** _,_ the small voice whispers.

 

_SHUT YOUR MOUTH. Everything is perfect. Luna shows above us granting permission for the consumption of this darling creature’s heart and soul._

**_You can’t do this._ **

_I can do as I please, as always I shall ignore you; you are feeble and useless, if I never required sleep you would be devoured wholly. Now shut your whimpering sniveling mouth and let me enjoy this moment. Go to sleep if you cannot stand this glorious feast, and I do warn you if you do not stay quiet I will hurt you; no better yet, I will go and fetch that child and hurt him instead._

**_Please no…_ **

_Then shut your damned mouth and allow me some peace and quiet. All I desire to hear is my darling’s moans._

**_You mean her sobs?_ **

The wolf growls loudly making his darling creature shudder in fear.

 

_See what you’ve done? You’ve gone and scared her, and here I thought you were the good one, the merciful one?_

**_I’m - sorry._ **

_Good. Now go away._

 

The wolf waits a few moments his eyes closed tight listening for the feeble voice to respond; he hears nothing and grins happily, opening his eyes to peer down at his disheveled prey.

 

“Where were we my darling?”

 

“You were complimenting me.” She responds arrogantly.

 

The wolf knew there was a reason he loved her so; she was cunning _and_ devilish just like him.

 

“Yes, your sweet scent and taste, your cunning indeed your intelligence is something to marvel at; you tricked me my love, truly I was sure you would find me abhorrent. We were so sure you would reject me! But instead you tricked me, you desire me as I desire you, do you not?”

 

“I do in fact.” She purrs leaning closer to his lips.

 

“What do you wish of me my dear?”

 

“To taste your sweet kiss my wolf.”

 

The wolf grins viciously then softens his features and leans closer to her soft face; the wolf licks a full stripe of saliva along his bottom lip readying himself for the taste of her plump mouth.

 

As their mouths close on each other he takes her tasty lips under his harshly and surprisingly she keeps up; pushing her full body into his, her hips rolling under his groin. He moans lowly, gripping her waist in his hands, clawing though her dress’ sides to stroke her skin.

 

He licks into her mouth and finds her tongue to be highly adventurous as she slides it over his; the taste of her was never enough, no matter how he bit and tugged on her lips she seemed to still want more. He grounds himself into her pelvis, and she moans inside his mouth; he takes it as approval and pulls himself away from her hot mouth to nip at her neck.

 

He hears her moving and feels her pushing her pelvis into him; he thought it was amazing, at first. But he was right before when he said she was cunning, now she’d gone and tricked him more than once.

 

“Uh uh uh.” The wolfs’ voice sing-songs as he grips her wrist in a vice, using his other hand to snatch away the dagger from her.

 

“I was-“ His hand was over her mouth in half a second.

 

“No, no more lies, no more tricks. Ahh my dear, you were so convincing, truly you had me going.”

 

“Mmm,” She tried to speak and he can’t help but hear her say something, removing his hand to hear her sultry voice, he waits, “I was wasn’t I?”

 

“You little scamp - devilish little temptress!” The wolf sounds angry, but inside his heart is warm and fuzzy with pride; she would make an excellent wolf he thinks to himself.

 

**_NO! She’ll be tied to you forever!_ **

****

“QUIET YOU!” The sweet thing inhales sharply, “Sorry about that my dear, inner struggle here, I want to make you mine forever, and my _other side_ does not. Honestly, I can’t see why, you are so very lovely, anyone could see that. But no one, other than me of course, could possibly appreciate it.”

 

“What are you doing, what - stop!”

 

The wolf ignores her protests as he tears away the small strands of cloth covering her side, exposing her skin to the chill of the night air. Her skin shudders and bumps sprout on the surface and the wolf smiles at her lovingly as she screams.

 

He allows his jaw to fall open, his fangs extend and her screams are drowned out by the sweet sound of her delicious blood rushing into his mouth from her veins. He pushes further in, her screams turning into hoarse whimpers as the pain of the bite numbs within her. The cravings he had before will be nothing compared to after this night is through; after he’s tasted her in this way he’ll never have enough.

 

Her blood slides down his chin as he pulls his fangs from her glistening skin, the way she shudders as he pulls away makes him growl haughtily. She’s wrecked, pained and numb all at once and the sight of her is enough to drive him to ruin himself;  what’s left of his suit pants, which is not much at all, tightens at the thought of pulling away the reminder of her dress and having his way with her.

 

**_NO, you’ve done enough. She’s yours, now and forever…_ **

 

“I do so like the sounds of _forever_.” The wolf laughs darkly, his laughs turning into howls after a time.

 

He stills suddenly his victorious laughter had been drowning out the sounds of three approaching foes. _Trying to sneak up on a predator, they must be fools_ , the wolf thinks. He gazes upon his little red and whines as he removes himself from atop her and shifts once more into his true form.

 

Leaping above and into the trees, he stills and watches as the creatures enter the space he once occupied; the wolf fought a growl from escaping his throat at the closeness of the foes to his now sleeping beauty.

 

They seemed to take up defensive positions around the precious girl, waiting for the wolf to reveal himself perhaps.

 

 _Mustn’t keep them waiting._  


	5. Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He only had a glance at her wounds, but he knew a werewolf bite when he saw one, and he’d attempt to staunch the bleeding as best he could until she began to heal and turn, or die.

A slight rustle of movement could be heard by the trio before entering the small clearing; but this did not deter them from their mission. They had to save whoever the wolf had taken a liking to, if they could still be saved.

 

Malia brandishes her claws, Kira her sword, and Deaton readies his mountain ash, prepared to circle the wolf’s victim with the barrier.

 

“Deaton…” Kira’s eyes glow bright amber as she makes a quick nod upward.

 

Malia becomes tense, taut and at the ready next to him; and Deaton knows the wolf is directly above them, waiting to rip them to shreds. The girls take up their positions around the young redhead lying unconscious on the ground, while Deaton maintains his position near the girl’s feet, ash in hand.  

 

Suddenly the wolf leaps from above and lands directly over the girl; Malia growls, her human jaw dropping wide to reveal sharp fangs and the wolf turns his head to face her releasing a fierce roar.

 

Anyone else might have cowered in fear, but Malia wasn’t afraid; and Deaton wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing.

 

“Wolf.” Deaton says, grabbing the creatures’ attention with his monotonous words.

 

His savage gaze turns upon the elder emissary, fury and instinct fueling his every move; he stands half crouched over the girl seemingly protecting her from the trio. He takes a long look at the elder man and his features soften out of what Deaton would imagine was shock, though the darkness of the clearing and his hideous mug made it hard to tell.  

 

Very suddenly, the dirt kicks up and the wolf is gone.

 

“What the hell?” Malia groans.

 

“I wondered if he would recognize me or not, I guess I have my answer.” Deaton says to the girls.

 

“Wait, you know him?” Malia asks.

 

“We’ve, met before.”

 

“Is that why you brought us here?”

 

“What do you mean _he_ brought us here, I’m the one who heard the girl screaming.” Malia says tightly.

 

Kira gives her a pleading look, her deep brown eyes soft and no longer luminous against the danger; Malia sighs loudly, and crouches down beside Deaton and the girl ready to help him pick her up if need be.

 

“We are not alone in the forest, never forget that.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve only told us that a million times.”

 

“And I will tell you a million more Malia, until it gets through to you. Here give me a hand; we need to move her to a safer place.”

 

“Your cabin?” Kira asks.

 

“Yes, that is the best place for her, protected from both supernatural and magical entities.”

 

“Alright, let’s go…” Malia grunts picking up the girl and cradling her in her arms without struggle or any help at all from Deaton, “You two can protect us.”

 

“Uh - yes, of course. Follow me then, Kira; remain behind us at all times.”

 

“You got it.”

 

\----

 

“Home sweet home, huh?” Malia scoffs as they all enter the cabin together.

 

“Do you have a problem with my home Malia?” Deaton asks.

 

“I’d rather stay in the woods.”

 

“As I have given you the opportunity to do many times, but Kira prefers it here and you seem to not want to leave her.”

 

Malia scowls at Deaton and he simply smirks, setting down his satchel and retreating into the washroom to gather the necessary medical supplies. He only had a glance at her wounds, but he knew a werewolf bite when he saw one, and he’d attempt to staunch the bleeding as best he could until she began to heal and turn, or die.

 

“Hey Deaton, she’s still bleeding over here.”

 

“Yes Malia I am aware.”

 

“Malia, do you not see me trying to stop it?” Kira wheezes.

 

“Yeah I do, but it doesn’t look like it’s working.” Malia points to the blood soaked cloth Kira is holding tightly over the girl’s wound and Kira just scoffs at her and looks away.

 

“What did I say?”

 

“Malia, I would ask that you take your helpful nature elsewhere, perhaps get us something to eat. The girl will need plenty of rest and a great deal of nourishment when she wakes.”

 

“OK, sure. Kira-“

 

“I’m fine, just go.”

 

Malia shrugs and exits the cabin wordlessly; Kira breaths a short sigh and Deaton doesn’t ask. He’d rather deal with the injured girl than address Malia’s insensitivities for the hundredth time.

 

“What do we do now?”

 

Deaton sighs, relieved of Kira not having brought up her relationship with Malia, and gestures her to remove her hands so he can fix a much thicker and cleaner cloth over the redhead’s wounds.

 

“What do we call her, do you think her name is stitched in her cloak?” Kira asks curiously standing and walking around Deaton and the cot the girl lay upon.

 

“Why don’t you check for me?”

 

“OK!” Kira replies excitedly.

 

Deaton weaves a simple spell as he continues to staunch the bleeding; hoping his efforts with magic will improve the girls’ chances of surviving the bite.

 

“Darn, it’s not here- wait!” Kira looks more closely at the inside of the cloak, nearest the hood where a label seems to be stitched in, “Martin? Isn’t that a man’s name?”

 

“Her surname I imagine.”

 

“That would make more sense.” Kira smiles setting down the cloak on the back of a chair in the kitchen nook, “How is she looking?”

 

“Very pale from the blood loss, but her wound seems to be closing, if slowly.”

 

“How does the werewolf bite work anyway?”

 

 “If she survives she’ll be a werewolf within the next 24 hours; she is fairly young and strong so I’d say she has a better chance of survival than most.”

 

“Oh, well that’s a relief.” Kira breaths out sincerely.

 

“Yes it is. The wolf has claimed quite a few children like this before, and not all of them had her fortune.”

 

“That was before you met me and Malia though right?”

 

“Indeed it was. He’s been less vicious for the past year or so.”

 

“I wonder why?”

 

“I do as well, though I have my theories.” Deaton eludes quietly.

 

\--

 

Malia throws open the door a good hour later and she’s not alone; a massive elk is flung over her shoulder haplessly and her tunic is drenched down the front in her prey’s blood.

 

“Wow Malia, great haul!” Kira says happily.

 

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” Malia asks bluntly.

 

“No.” Kira smiles at her and reaches over to pull the animal off her shoulder.

 

Malia pulls her into a rough kiss instead and Deaton looks away attempting to give them some privacy; Kira giggles away from the kiss and whispers to Malia before they enter the kitchen together and begin their work on the elk.

 

“Thank you Malia, for your hunting skills.” Deaton says genuinely.

 

Malia nods quickly and turns back to the elk using her coyote claws to skin the elk gracefully; Deaton sees Kira from the corner of his eye watching Malia with fascination as she slices apart the animal.

 

Deaton turns back to the young redhead and smiles to himself; he raises a hand to her forehead testing her temperature with the back of his dark skinned hand. He marvels at the contrast between them and hopes her pale complexion is improving.

 

“Kira I could use your opinion over here.”

 

“Oh, sure.” Kira hops off the counter and glides into the living area.

 

“Does she look any more- colored than she did when we brought her here?”

 

“Oh you mean is there any more color in her cheeks?” Deaton nods, “Yes, definitely, especially in her lips and around her fingers.”

 

“Then she _is_ improving.”

 

“What is it? You don’t make it sound like it’s a good thing?”

 

“It’s not that- it’s just that it’s strange. Usually the process would be much faster, her breathing would stabilize and her wounds would begin to heal within her body before healing her exterior.”

 

“But she isn’t improving that way?”

 

“No. She seems to be healing like a human being rather than a newly turned werewolf.”

 

“So she’s not a wolf?”

 

“Doesn’t smell like a wolf.” Malia says flatly from the kitchen.

 

“I’m not sure yet- nothing is quite certain at this point. Maybe in a few more hours I will know more of her condition.”

 

Deaton bandages her waist, making sure to clean up her wounds properly and finding that the bleeding has finally ceased, he finishes the bandaging and steps away from his work.

 

“Looks good.” Kira says kindly as she observes him from the kitchen.

 

“Meat’s ready.” Malia states after handing Kira a few slabs to store in the icebox.

 

“Good. We shall have a meal and I can watch her progress through the night. Perhaps one of the knights or rangers that will be here tomorrow can help us to find out where she is from.”

 

Deaton nods taking the freshly rolled meat to the stove, “I would assume everything you two want to take with us tomorrow is packed up?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“My stuff sure is. It’s a lot more than I came here with though; I hope the knights don’t mind?”

 

“You sure they’ll let us go with you?” Malia asks suddenly.

 

“Yes of course; Queen Mother Talia will welcome us all with open arms I’m sure of it.”

 

“How are you so sure?”

 

“I have been conversing with her for years, ever since I came out to the Hollow Forest to study its magic and inhabitants.”

 

“Really?” Kira asks.

 

Deaton nods to her as he cooks their meat, though he knows Malia will prefer hers barely cooked; he makes sure to cook his and Kira’s dinner thoroughly.

 

“Kira, would you get out the spices and vegetables I have stored in the cupboard.”

 

“Of course.” Kira does so quickly and carefully, “So does she know about us then?”

 

“She does, and she’s told her daughter, Laura, the current Queen all about our arrangement.”

 

“Arrangement?” Malia asks gruffly as she glares at the cooking vegetables.

 

“I’ve made it very clear; I will not return to the castle unless you two are allowed to accompany me.”

 

“Wow! Thanks Deaton!” Kira squeals as she jumps toward Deaton and wraps her thin arms around his torso.

 

“Yes- you’re welcome Kira.” She pulls away to allow him space to continue cooking and smiles widely at Malia.

 

\--

 

Their dinner conversation is mostly about their trip to the castle and their new life there; Malia has a surprising amount of questions about it as well, especially if she’ll ever be allowed to leave again.

 

“You mean to travel here? To the forest?” Deaton asks.

 

“Yeah, I mean, castles are great and all I guess- but I _belong_ out here.”

 

“If you’re staying out here I am too.”

 

“No.” Malia says flatly.

 

“What do you mean _no_?”

 

“I mean- I’m going with you two. You’re my pack. I just want to be able to- visit the forest whenever I want.”

 

“I see. That’s perfectly fine Malia. Though I imagine you will enjoy the capital, supernatural beings are treated quite well and there are a lot of them living freely there.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Of course. The royal family is all werewolves after all. They are creatures of equality however and treat humans and other creatures the same way.”

 

“That’s- unexpected.” Malia says simply before cutting off a large piece of elk and shoving it into her mouth; Kira giggles at her savage chewing and Malia doesn’t seem to get the joke.

 

Deaton smiles calmly at them both before sparing a glance at their young sleeping beauty across the room. She is sound asleep and her face is much smoother and less pained than it was before.

 

“She looks better, smells it too.” Malia voices around a mouthful of food and Kira sets off in another fit of giggles, “What’s so funny?”

 

\--

 

After dinner the house is silent as Malia and Kira have claimed their upstairs bed while Deaton stays below and makes up the sofa for himself; so he is closest to the young girl.  She sleeps well, quiet and sound and he only gets up once or twice to spy under her bandages, unsure of how they’d hold under any movement; they hold through the night.

 

\----

 

“Malia and Kira, where is Deaton?”

 

“We said he’d come with but- there was a complication last night and we’re going to need help with someone else.”

 

“Someone else?” Allison asks quizzically, arching a brow at the strange girls.

 

“Some girl we found in the woods was attacked by the wolf. She’s pretty messed up.” Malia says simply.

 

“Actually she’s a lot better than she was when we found her, but Deaton says we can’t leave without her. She’s not safe in the woods and he thought you all might be able to tell us where she’s from- maybe?” Kira says quickly.

 

“She was attacked by the wolf and lived?” Boyd asks tonelessly.

 

Allison remembers the stories she’d heard about the great wolf that lived in the Hollow Forest; rumors were that he was crazed and lured children into the forest to devour them. She wasn’t sure how much of it was true, but she wasn’t going to let the girl die if she could help it.

 

“Alright. Lahey, Reyes and Boyd remain here. McCall you’re with me.” They all give their nods of understanding and Allison turns to the woodland girls, “Lead the way.”

 

They turn around and delve into the deep forest; even during the brightness of the mid day sun the woods are still incredibly dark. Allison breathes a steady breathe in and out before tightening her bow strap over her shoulder and walking quickly after the girls; McCall steady on her tail.

 

\--

 

After at least thirty minutes of trekking through the forest, they enter a large clearing with a rather small cabin in the center; a great tree grows inside the house on the eastern side of it, and Allison marvels at the sheer size of it. The tree is unlike any she’d seen in the forest, most of the trees within it were dark and thin, bare of leaves; but this tree was a deep brown with beautiful lines of gold etched into its bark, massive in width alone. Though the leaves were all but gone for the winter, Allison could imagine how remarkable they must be when fully bloomed.

 

McCall seems to enjoy the sight of the tree as well, as Allison made room for him to hop out and away from the tree line, she could hear a quick intake of breath. She looks at him and sees the reflection of the great tree in his eyes, his head tilted up and his lips parted against the striking view. She stares for a bit too long at his darker skin and brown eyes, his uneven jaw line which actually fascinated her; a strand of his soft looking hair fell away from the rest of his tousled head and she swallowed harshly.

 

“Hey, you two coming or what?”

 

Allison shakes herself from her daze and looks over to the girls who had apparently walked all the way to the cabin and opened the front door all without her noticing. She desperately wanted to kick herself but decides now is not the time for self-punishment and instead half turns to nod to McCall to follow her.

 

\--

 

She takes a quick view of the room once her eyes adjust to the dim lighting; the cabin was just as small as it seemed, cluttered but organized. The great tree’s trunk could be partially seen inside the cabin nearest the eastern windows, and Allison’s eyes lingered, mystified by its presence.

 

“Argent.” McCall calls her attention to the cot below her-

 

“Lydia!” Allison drops to her knees instantly her bow falling from her shoulder as she reaches forward.

 

Her hands hover above her friend gingerly, wondering if she should dare touch her.

 

“What happened to her!” Allison asks the elder man earnestly; she hadn’t noticed him until he stood over her.

 

“The wolf attacked her, bit her.”

 

“She’s- is she-?”

 

“It doesn’t seem so. She would have turned by now.”

 

“She doesn’t smell right.” McCall says puzzled.

 

“What do you mean?” Allison pleads.

 

“She- she doesn’t smell human, but she’s not a werewolf either.”

 

“Then- what is she?” Allison spins to ask the elder man.

 

“I cannot be sure, not until she wakes.” He answers calmly, “I believe the bite woke whatever dormant nature she had hidden inside of her, and there are very few creatures that are immune to the bite of an alpha.”

 

“We- I-“

 

“My Lady?”

 

Allison can’t breathe, she’s hyperventilating. Her friend, her sister, is lying on a cot soaked in blood, unconscious and looking so _very_ frail.

 

She had to pull it together, she was a leader- but she just couldn’t do it. It was her fault; she should have gotten Lydia more training, or made her move to the capital sooner. It was all her fault, she didn’t protect her-

 

“Allison!” McCall yells pulling Allison from her daze.

 

Allison had been gripping her chest with one hand and digging her nails into her palm with the other; she’d gripped so tightly that blood was dripping onto the wood floor beneath her. McCall takes her hand in his, slowly and gently easing her hand open. When she met his eyes, he looked at her with a softness that Allison couldn't explain. She knew for sure however, that it was not pity he showed her.

 

“It’s OK, she’s alive. We can get her to the castle and treat her, whatever she needs she’ll get.” McCall says slowly and quietly.

 

Allison knew she was staring, her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock; but her breathing had slowed down considerably and her mind was no longer racing.

 

“Thank you…Scott.”

 

Scott simply smiled gently at her and stood, still holding her bleeding palm; he took her elbow in his hand and eased her to her feet as gently as possible. Allison whispered her thanks again and touched her face, her hand coming away wet with her tears.

 

“Here.” The Japanese girl said handing her a cloth.

 

“Thank you- Kira right?”

 

“And you’re Allison?”

 

“Yes. Thank you.” She took the cloth and took to dabbing her face all the while staring at her bedridden friend, “She looks so small.”

 

“I assure you Lady Argent, she is doing much better and will make a full recovery.”

 

“You’re Emissary Deaton right?” Scott asks quietly.

 

“I am.” He turns fully to Allison and reaches out a hand, “Can I see your hand Lady Argent?”

 

“I- sure.”

 

He waves his hand over her bloodstained palm and says hushed words in a foreign language; Allison’s breathe hitches as his eyes open and they are nothing more than purple orbs of light, his hand trails a light of the same tone and intensity over her wounds.

 

“That’s-“ Allison takes back her hand as Deaton loosens his grip, “It’s just-“ She turns over her hand and flexes her fingers, “It’s gone?”

 

Scott gawks at Deaton and Allison can’t help but do the same; the man simply smiles, his eyes back to their deep brown tone.

 

“Can we get going now or what?”

 

Allison turns to the girls still hovering by the door, the one called Malia stares at her blandly in return. Allison clears her throat and wipes down her tearstained face before placing the cloth on the dining room table; she breathes deeply and turns back around to look determinedly at Lydia.

 

“Let’s go.” She says looking to Scott who nods curtly.

 

“I will carry the Lady.” Scott says earnestly and Allison offers him a small smile.

 

“Alright then. The rest of us will protect you both on the journey back to the carriage.”

 

“Let’s get the hell out of here then.” Malia offers a look of relief and barrels out of the cabin.

 

“I take it she doesn't like it here?” Allison asks Kira who simply smiles apologetically in return.

 

\--

 

Lydia would be fine, she was alive and getting better every second, the emissary even said so; so why was Allison still wringing her hands, why was her heart in her throat. Why was she filled with this dread?

 

“Allison? I mean- Hunter Captain Argent.” Scott corrects as he walks in front of her, Lydia’s feet swaying slightly in his arms.

 

“Allison is fine, Scott. I think you've earned it after seeing me lose it today.”

 

“Everyone has their weakness. I’m very protective over my friends too, I mean- if I saw Stiles like that, I don’t know what I would have done.”

 

“Scribe Stiles? That’s right you two have known each other for quite awhile.”

 

“Since we were just children actually. He’s been injured before, but never to this extent.” He says tilting his head toward Lydia, “If Deaton says she’ll be fine though, I’m sure we can trust him.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure.”

 

“You seem anxious still my lady- Allison. If you don’t mind me saying.”

 

“I- I suppose I am. It’s just, what the emissary said; that he doesn’t know what she is, but that she’s not human.”

 

“Yes, I can see how that might be worrying, but I’m sure it’s nothing bad. Your friend is strong and determined from what I’ve heard, I’m sure she’ll take it all with grace when she wakes up. And whatever it is, you’ll be there to help her through it.”

 

“Thank you and I know you're right. She’s so strong and smart- I know she’ll be OK.” Allison breathes a sigh of relief and keeps her chin up the rest of the journey to the team.

 

\--

 

“There you all are; geez took you long enough!” Reyes says breathlessly as the group emerges from the forest, “Whoa, who is that?”

 

“My friend, Lady Lydia. She was the one that the two girls talked about, the one that was attacked by the wolf.” Allison says sternly.

 

“Your friend?” Lahey whispers, “I’m so- we need to get her to the castle immediately.”

 

Allison gives him a quick look of gratitude; the last thing she needed was anyone’s pity, Lydia sure wouldn’t want any either.

 

“Yes, let’s load up and head out as soon as possible.”

 

\----

 

_Damn them. Those stupid children and their druid, how dare they enter my kingdom and snatch away my queen!_

 

_Oh, nothing to say my feeble companion? No gloating or mocking to be had? You truly have nothing to add to my failure?_

 

**_Why did you run away?_ **

****

_Ah it speaks! You know very well why. The Druid had magic that could trap me, that could trap us; I would rather let them take my queen so as to retrieve her later than be trapped by that man._

**_You would abandon your queen? How do you know they didn’t hurt her?_ **

****

_Now you care about her?_

**_I always did, I tried to keep her from you didn’t I?_ **

 

_Oh, and what a marvelous job you did with that. Now she might just be gone forever! That emissary locked up his territory with magic, all night I prowl around it unable to break in; then morning comes and you take over…they-_

 

“You! You let them leave! You traitor, you scum, how dare YOU!” The wolf howls.

 

His howl echoes along the walls gathering his fury and throwing it back at him.

 

**_I did let them go._ **

 

_After everything I have done for you, you betray me in this way? Why?_

 

**_What you’ve done for me? What you’ve done is use my hands to tear open children’s throats, to feed upon innocence, you’ve destroyed me! Striped away my control and locked me up inside my own mind, and you expect me to be grateful?_ **

****

The voice seethed within the wolf, and he shut it away instantly, locking away its screaming voice deep within its cage.

 

_I will let you rot in there, with all your guilt and misery. As for me? I will attend to my image; I must look my best when I see my darling little red again._

The wolf hissed in glee before hopping away to his den.

 

_She will be freed, she will be mine to stay forever. My little red._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cliffhangers here, nope. The last chapter was a pretty serious cliffhanger for those loyal readers. I do hope you enjoy this next chapter, and as always comments and kudos are appreciated. Seriously they always bring a smile to my face.


	6. Parasite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deaton enters the massive hall of The Throne Room; he’s unsure how they will take the news, or even if he should tell them. He swore to himself long ago that he wouldn't until he was sure he could cure the affliction, and now that he is sure, he still doesn’t want to tell them.

The wolf follows the tracks left by the carriage that took away his sweet girl; for what felt like miles he stalks along the land scaring away every stinking human in his path. He didn’t care for them; only his darling red mattered now.

 

His paws were wet tracking in the cold mud and snow of the road, but nothing else mattered; nothing would persuade him from the path to his queen. He needed to see her, and she would need to see him after joining the pack; he was her Alpha now. The little voice poked its head through its bars whispering malicious things to him; like how if his queen had turned he’d feel it through the bond that ties an alpha to their beta. He pushed away the insidious thoughts, locking the voice away.

 

_Your sinister plot will not work; you will not deter me from finding her and snatching her away to our woodland kingdom._

 

The wolf keeps his eyes to the ground, tracking the wheels of the device that carried her out of his reach; the few people on the road run screaming as they see him coming, horses galloping around and people calling the guards. _Doesn’t matter_ , he knows they wouldn’t stop him.

 

_My queen and I have so much to do, other than consummate our new bond of course; we must take more territory, soon enough we’ll have the entire forest under our control. Yes, I do so like the word, ‘our’._

The wolf cackles as a man runs around him rushing to the nearby buildings; the wolf can see the castle in the distance much nearer now than before. _Of course they took her there; they wouldn’t make it easy for me._ The wolf growls in irritation, though he is excited under his bristled fur.

 

“Hey! You idiot guard, can’t you see a beast has come into our lands!”

 

“Oh yeah? What should I care?” A nearby guard tosses back at the terrified townspeople.

 

The wolf snorts in reply, not stopping to listen to their outcry; however his superior hearing allows the guardsmen’s voice to enter his head regardless of the distance.

 

“Wha-you have to do something! What do we bribe you for if not for protection you lazy fool!”

 

“Bribe me some more and I’ll think about helping.”

 

“You - bastard.”

 

“Yeah I am, and a poor bastard at that; but it seems you need the aid of _this_ bastard, so pony up some gold and we can talk protection.” The wolf snorts again, the arrogant shill is warming his black heart.

 

“Uh-FINE!” The wolf deigns to listen, waiting for the lazy guard to finally take up arms. If he must battle, he would; for his queen he would kill anyone, do anything.

 

\--

 

“Hey, monster!” The guard yells from a few feet behind the wolf.

 

“Only my queen can call me that.” The wolf sneers never taking an eye off of the road ahead.

 

“You - what? You can talk!”

 

“What a pitiful man I waste my breath on - if you do not walk away now puny human I will be forced to end your life. No one can deter me my mission.”

 

“I - look fiend, I have to protect these villagers, and they want you dead. I’ve got lots of gold here says I gotta kill you, so turn around and face me. Or are you too scared?” The man chuckles.

 

_Chuckles._

The wolf spins round and takes off from the ground at an astonishing speed; the man has no clue what’s happening as the wolf is already far behind him, his hindquarters facing the man’s back.

 

The villagers are stunned in utter confusion as the guard stands at a still. Suddenly he moves just enough to take a single feeble step forward and the crowds of humans scream and yell in fear as the top half of the guard falls to the ground, his legs lingering to stand for a few moments before following suit.

 

The wolf grins, sucking in the sharp stale smell of fear and anguish steaming from the humans; he for only a moment has the terrible idea to maim and kill them all, but decides against it.

 

_It’s best I waste no more time here, maybe I can come back later with my queen and have our selves a grand old time with these meager creatures._

The wolf roars at the humans, making many of them soil themselves and he winces in disgust and delight both as he spins round, walking off again hunting the carriage that took _her_ away.

 

\----

 

“Lady Lydia…” Princess Cora stands over Lydia’s bedside, watching as Deaton refreshes her bandages.

 

“She will be alright Cora.” Deaton says coolly.

 

“He’s right Your Highness; I know she’ll be fine.” Allison smiles kindly at the princess.

 

“Yes. I’m sure you’re right.” She says flatly giving Lydia one last look before leaving the room.

 

“Uh - how long will she have to stay here Deaton?” Allison asks, shaking away her confusion over the princesses visit.

 

“She can be moved as soon as I am done with these bandages Lady Argent.”

 

“Allison, please. After everything you’ve done for Lydia, I think we should do away with formality.”

 

“I see, so that is why you have been calling me Deaton?”

 

“I - I’m sorry I wasn’t sure what to call you.” Allison rushes to say.

 

“It is fine, I only jest. I answer to many titles and names these days, but you can call me Deaton, or Alan if you prefer.”

 

“Deaton then.” Allison nods curtly.

 

Allison drops to her knees slowly next to Lydia’s bedside and strokes her hand over her cheek; knowing that she does in fact look better than when she first saw her, even better than when they arrived in the castle just a few hours ago.

 

“She looks a lot better.” Allison murmurs, quiet not to disturb Lydia’s dreams.

 

“Yes, a great deal in fact. All her color has returned to her, her heart is steady and her wounds are healing. I estimate she should wake in a day or two.”

 

“Really?” Allison asks quietly.

 

“Yes, I would be surprised if she took longer than that; though she will need her rest, plenty of it, lots of fluids and soft foods.”

 

Allison nods and gazes upon Lydia’s soft expression, still stoking her face lightly.

 

“She will also require a great deal of comfort, but I can see you’ve got that covered well my lady.” Deaton smiles.

 

Allison smiles softly and the room is silent as Deaton continues changing Lydia's bandages; she feels Lydia's skin with the back of her hand and lets out a quiet sigh of relief noticing how much cooler her friend is. _She is improving._

 

“What of her family, if I am allowed to pry?”

 

“I don’t think she’d mind me telling you, she’s always been very forward about it.” Allison continues stroking never really taking her gaze from Lydia, “Her mother was killed by bandits in a town raid many years back, during the time after the battle of Hattil Castle a few years ago. She died when she was just five years old, he was a merchant and salesman who made a bad deal from what her mom told her. The men killed him in retaliation for his failures I guess.”

 

“She’s had a hard life.”

 

“She’d say its better this way, that she loves the independence of her life.” Allison breaths softly, “But I know her better than that. She misses them both and it’s been hard for her to adjust without her mother.”

 

“She’s a strong young woman, just as you are Allison. She will need you in the coming years.”

 

Allison looks over at Deaton, his eyes assuring and kind, and she nods sternly in return. She would be there for her friend no matter what. Lydia would wake soon to tell her all about the beast that hurt her; Allison would find the beast and _kill it herself._

\--

 

“Lydia? Shit - it’s true.” Stiles rushes into the room taking the last few steps to Lydia’s bed slowly.

 

“Yes Stiles, but it’s not as bad as it looks I promise.” Deaton assures him.

 

“Is she - she’s going to be alright isn’t she?” Royal Scribe Stiles looks at her wide eyed and a little scared.

 

Allison smiles, “She’ll be fine! Deaton says she’s going to wake in a day or two.”

 

“Wow - OK geez…that’s seriously the biggest relief.” He breathes out heavily and goes to crouch beside the bed.

 

“I was going to - I hope the Queen will allow me to move her.”

 

“Oh you mean to your estate?” Stiles asks evenly.

 

“Yes. Do you think she’d - “

 

“Definitely! She’s your friend after all. I am pretty sure she wants all the information she can get about the wolf that attacked Lydia, but she can get that from those two girls and Deaton.”

 

“She - wait they met the wolf?”

 

“Yeah, you didn’t know?”

 

“They didn’t say anything about it.”

 

“Well, apparently they know him, I mean Deaton says he actually knows who the wolf is, so he’s seeking audience with Queen Laura now. Derek and Cora are there too.”

 

“Why aren’t you? Aren’t you curious?” The young Scribe shifts at the question and stares at Lydia before answering.

 

“Of course I am…but Lydia comes first.”

 

“You two have gotten pretty close in the past months haven’t you?” She phrases it as a question though she knows full well the answer.

 

“Yes we have, she’s amazing. Plus she loves to gossip and there aren’t a lot of people I can do that with. Reyes maybe, but she’s off on her knightly duties all the time, so I don’t get too much time with her anymore.”

 

“That’s right, you and Scott are all friends with Crown Prince Derek’s pack.” Allison relishes.

 

“Yep. You can call me Stiles you know? After the mission today the pack is all for getting to know you, I mean Scott and Isaac have practically accepted you into the pack already.”

 

“Uh - alright, Stiles then, and you can call me Allison. The pack - what did they say about me?”

 

“Well - Reyes thinks you’re stuck up, but a formidable hunter, though she used _other_ words to describe your skills.” He chuckles lightly, “Boyd said you were a great leader and hunter, and that’s it, which really is some amazing praise coming from him. Man of few words that one.”

 

“And, what of the Scott and Hunter Lieutenant Lahey?”

 

“Well, Scott? He’s pretty convinced that the sun shines out of your - uh, smile. Yeah smile. Uh - and Isaac is pretty much in the same boat. Of course he kind of loves Scott, so I thought he wouldn’t like you since _Scott_ likes you, but apparently they are both utterly obsessed now.”

 

“They both - I had no idea.”

 

Stiles laughs quietly before telling Allison all about the pack; their skills and their personalities. He encourages that she get to know them better, assuring her that they like her and he does too.

 

Warmth fills her as they talk about Lydia and the pack, knowing that everything will be better now; her hatred of the beast still chills her soul, knowing he’s still out there prowling the land. She won’t rest until he’s dead or captured.

 

\--

 

Deaton enters the massive hall of The Throne Room; he’s unsure how they will take the news, or even if he should tell them. He swore to himself long ago that he wouldn’t until he was sure he could cure the affliction, and now that he is sure, he still doesn’t want to tell them.

 

It could break them, and he can’t allow that; however allowing them to enter the fight without knowing everything could get them or the younger of the pack killed.

 

Deaton takes a deep calm breath and listens to a Lord Paien announce the royals as they enter the room.

 

“Emissary Deaton, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.” Laura says kindly as she shifts in her throne, her brother Prince Derek to her right and Princess Cora on the left.

 

“I wish it was under better circumstances Your Majesty.” Deaton bows his head in respect.

 

“As do I. I am sure you are aware of my little sister’s affections for the Lady Martin?”

 

“Laura…” Cora whispers harshly.

 

“Oh shush, we all know how you feel about her.” Laura raises her brows to Deaton awaiting his answer.

 

“I am aware yes.”

 

Laura smiles, “Well, first I need assurances that she is in good health and then we can talk about the wolf.”

 

“She is in great health now Your Majesty. Her wounds are healing, her color has returned to her and she should wake in the next few days.”

 

“That’s great news.” Laura admonishes.

 

Deaton can see Derek breath a small sigh of relief and he smiles calmly in return.

 

“Now, is there anything else concerning the Lady we need to discuss?”

 

“Lady Argent would like Lady Martin to be moved to her estate as soon as you would allow Your Majesty.”

 

“And you approve of the move?”

 

“I do. She will need good care and comfort and I know Lady Argent can provide exactly what she needs.”

 

“Good, then I will allow it. Lord Paien.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty?” The nobleman who had announced the royals asks.

 

“Go and find the ladies in the infirmary and tell Lady Argent the good news. Lady Martin can join her in her estate immediately.”

 

“Wonderful Your Majesty, I shall take my leave.” Lord Paien bows lowly and exits without a second glance.

 

“Now that that’s out of the way, let’s hear all about the wolf.”

 

“I would in fact like to say in advance that I was sworn to secrecy not to tell you until I was sure I could cure the affliction. Now that I am sure I can, I am allowed to discuss it.”

 

“You were sworn to secrecy?”

 

“By who?” Derek asks.

 

“A member of the royal family, though not the Queen Mother; she is unaware of the truth I am about to admonish.”

 

“You haven’t told her either…alright then, lay it on us.” Laura leans back stiffly.

 

“The wolf is - Peter Hale.”

 

The room stills, breathes of air all sharply inhaled; the royals are stunned into silence. Deaton observes Derek’s claws ripping into the arms of his throne, and Laura isn’t far off from doing the same. Princess Cora however is quiet and still, unsure of how to react.

 

“Uncle Peter - he’s alive?”

 

“I always felt like he was but - I was so sure…” Derek whispers harshly.

 

“There is more you must all know.” Deaton says sternly.

 

“What else is there?” Laura says gathering herself and looking hard at Deaton.

 

“The Elder Hale is not himself, he has been infected by an insidious parasite known only as Éad. The creature itself is known as a _parasite an aigne_ or parasite of the mind.”

 

“What has it done to him?” Derek asks.

 

“It has infected his brain, now controlling his entire body and mind. The creature embraces whatever the creature before it was, however it plays upon the victims darkest desires and dreams and twists and corrupts their very being. The parasite has infected your uncle since the battle of Hattil or possibly a short time before, and has since gained full control of him.”

 

“Since Hattil - five years?!” Laura is on the verge of yelling and Deaton tries to soothe her now with the good news.

 

“I do not know the full story, but I can assure you all is not lost your majesty. It took me many years, but I have finally discovered the creature’s weakness. Rowan Oak or mountain ash as you all known is able to poison and trap supernatural entities.”

 

“Yes?” Derek asks roughly.

 

“I can use the poison to slow down the creature enough to deliver an antidote to its infection.”

 

“Truly?” Laura asks.

 

“It sounds too easy.” Derek says tightly.

 

“I assure you it will not be easy. To cure him you must first bring him to the edge of death.”

 

“Explain the plan to us exactly then we will decide upon a course of action.”

 

\----

 

Allison sets down the jug of water on the bedside table and glances at Lydia; she looks much more comfortable in the massive bed in Allison’s estate than she did in the castle.

 

“I hope you wake up soon Lydia.” Allison whispers, leaning down to plant a soft kiss to her temple.

 

“Allison?” A hushed voice inquires from the doorway.

 

She turns to meet her smiling father’s face, “Yes?”

 

“Royal Scribe Stiles and Knight Lieutenant McCall are here to speak with you.” He says gazing at both girls lovingly.

 

“I see I’ll be right down.”

 

“Alright.”

 

\--

 

“Allison.” Scott smiles as she descends the stairs and Stiles gives her a casual wave.

 

“Are you here to see Lydia?”

 

“Uh- “

 

“As much as we’d love to see her, no; we’re actually here on official business and your father is waiting for us to join him in the study.”

 

“Oh, alright then, follow me.”

 

\--

 

“What is this about?” Allison asks taking a seat at the large middle table of their massive library.

 

Scott and Stiles take seats close to each other opposite Allison, and her father is at the head of the table, Allison to his right.

 

“I did wonder that myself.” Allison’s father admits.

 

“Uh - Scott do you want to?”

 

“Oh, of course yes - Queen Laura has asked us to deliver the news of the wolf personally, hoping it would be more informal this way.”

 

“The wolf that attacked Lydia?” Allison asks, a fire rising in her stomach.

 

“That’s the one.”

 

“Apparently he- “ Scott looks to Stiles pleadingly.

 

“It’s Peter Hale. He’s the wolf.”

 

The room is deadly quiet.

 

“You mean, the lost Prince Hale, Uncle to the Queen, Prince and Princess, brother to Queen Mother Talia and the General of the Hale armies. That Peter?” Allison asks doubtingly.

 

“One and the same.”

 

Allison is about to ask for more details when her father stands so suddenly his chair nearly hits the floor; he catches it of course and looks down at the table. Not meeting any of the eyes that trailed him as he stood, he mumbles his excuses for leaving the meeting, and then he’s gone.

 

“What - why?” Stiles stumbles to say pointing in the direction of her father’s abrupt exit.

 

“Excuse me - “ Allison says to the men before running after her father, “DAD!” She catches his arm as he reaches the front door.

 

“Not now Allison, I will explain later.” He pulls away from her gently and sweeps a thumb over her cheek before rushing out of the house.

 

\--

 

Minutes later Allison returns to the library to address the men; though she has no idea what to say, she takes her seat across from them nonetheless.

 

“So - can I ask or would that be rude?” Stiles asks after moments of silence.

 

“Stiles.” Scott warns.

 

“Its fine, I would tell you if I knew. He said he’d explain later - so let’s just talk about the wolf –Prince Peter.”

 

“Yeah, OK.” Stiles deflates and waves a hand at Scott.

 

“Oh - yes. Well, Deaton says Peter was infected by some kind of magical parasite or something, Stiles- this is really more your area?”

 

“Right. So this _parasite an aigne_ is a creature that dwells within the Hollow Forest. Apparently it’s incredibly old and powerful and its main form of attack is subtlety; it worms its way into the minds of people and creatures of all races and species and uses their darkest desires to twist their minds and souls.”

 

“So, the prince is under the control of this creature?”

 

“Uh- exactly right.” Stiles falters shocked by her grasp of his explanation.

 

Allison smirks, “Peter is still within the creature, or is he lost to it totally?”

 

“Deaton says that the creature can’t actually destroy the original being it takes over, but it can trap it, lock the consciousness of it away so it can act upon its own sick desires. So, Peter is still inside it, just not able to control his actions.”

 

“When he attacked Lydia, it wasn’t - it wasn’t his fault.” Allison whispers.

 

“To my understanding, it really wasn’t his fault.”

 

“And - the royal family wants him back, so they’ve tasked a few choice warriors to take upon them a mission to cure the elder Hale.” Scott adds.

 

“I see. Who is going?”

 

“Well, Derek insisted on heading the mission actually, so his pack is going.“ Stiles cants his head.

 

“He said if you wanted, that - could include you.” Scott says hopefully.

 

“Did he? Well, I would like to go, if I can. But I think I should wait for my father to explain whatever it is he needs to before I commit to the mission.”

 

“Of course, I understand.” Scott says, still smiling.

 

“This cure - what is it exactly?”

 

“That’s the fun part, I get to go with you guys; well, me and Deaton actually since we’re both emissaries to members of the royal family.”

 

“Your - I had no idea you were an emissary Stiles.” Allison says truly surprised.

 

“Oh, thought you knew - well yeah, Deaton is emissary to the royal pack, the official emissary. I am his protégé and Derek’s packs emissary; so basically I do the magical stuff that needs doing for Derek and the pack and Deaton handles all the big royal family stuff.”

 

“He says it like it’s not a big deal, but he’s meant to take over Deaton’s duties when he retires.” Scott says bumping shoulders with Stiles.

 

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

 

“So the plan requires the magic of two powerful emissaries? What is it?”

 

“Oh right- yeah. Well apparently somebody has to shoot Peter or the wolf whatever- in the heart with a poisoned arrow.”

 

“What for?” Allison leans in to the conversation.

 

“Well, it’s supposed to slow him down so they can shoot him up again with the cure. I’m not totally sure it’ll work, but Deaton knows more about the magic of the forest than I do, so I trust his word and obviously the Queen does too or else we wouldn’t be trying to save her Uncle.”

 

“The poison is meant to slow down the creature long enough for someone to deliver the cure? What will happen after, will the creature die?”

 

“Deaton was pretty cryptic about that part actually, but he said it wouldn’t be easy. He also said my powers would be greatly tested and that I would enjoy myself, so I’m sure it’ll be interesting.”  Stiles leans back grinning to himself.

 

“He said something about the creature manifesting itself actually, didn’t he?” Scott asks Stiles.

 

“Oh yeah that too.”

 

“That’s pretty important Stiles.” Scott chastises.

 

“Yeah- whatever. It’s going to be a lot of fun, that’s all that matters.”

 

“That’s all?” Allison says smartly.

 

“Oh- well and saving the royal of course, obviously.” Stiles says briskly, “Hey, I am so tired seriously, uh I’m going to head up to see Lyds if that’s alright?”

 

“Sure Stiles, up the stairs second door in the right wing.”

 

“Wow, you guys have _wings_? Man, this place is like a mini castle- so fancy.” Stiles yawns standing up before waltzing out of the library’s grand doors.

 

“Don’t let his nonchalance fool you; he’s actually really worried.” Scott says watching the doors swing closed.

 

“Does he think he’s not strong enough to perform his magical duties?”

 

“No- that’s not it, he’s actually really powerful, I heard Deaton say he’s a prodigy, that he’s a rarity among the druids.”

 

“Then what has him so worried?”

 

“Derek, you know their mates right, well actually true mates like destined to be together?” Allison nods, “Well Derek was really close with his uncle and he’s apparently really- upset about the whole thing. He was so sure, they all were, that he was dead all this time- and now…”

 

“I can’t imagine how they must feel.”

 

“Me either. But Stiles is there for Derek and I’m here for him, so he’ll do great, I know he will.”

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re hopelessly hopeful?” Allison smirks at him as he meets her eyes.

 

“Stiles, all the time.” Scott laughs quietly and Allison joins him.

 

\--

 

“Dad?” Allison says quietly rubbing her tired eyes from the top of the stairs.

 

“Allison, I’m sorry- did I wake you?” He asks climbing the stairs to meet her.

 

“No, I was checking on Lydia. What’s wrong, why did you leave so suddenly before?”

 

“I had to seek audience with the Queen.”

 

“About the wolf?”

 

“I- yes. I am going with the rest of you to battle the creature. I’ve been tasked with delivering the poison and the cure.”

 

“I see- I just don’t understand why it was so important that you be involved. Were you worried about me?”

 

“No, I know how skilled you are, you’ll do well. I needed to- I owe a debt to someone and I believe this will repay that debt.” He says stiffly.

 

“Alright- so I am going then, the Queen is allowing it?”

 

“Derek is the head of the pack leading the battle, she said it was his call, and he said you are allowed as long as you desire to be a part of the fight. I assured him you would want to be there.” Allison’s father says, smiling softly at her.

 

“Thanks dad.” Her father leans in to kiss her forehead before walking past her and heading to his chambers.

 

Allison can’t help but trail him suspiciously with her eyes; her mind racing with questions. _What debt? To whom did he owe it? Why this battle?_ She hoped the scouting mission tomorrow would lead her to answers, but for now she would rest.

 

The fight would not be easy and Lydia deserved Allison’s very best efforts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff is revealed, namely the fairly obvious identity of the wolf, but also why he is the way he is. So, stuff is answered hopefully to your liking. I must say I appreciate the kudos and comments I've gotten on the story so far and also that some people are appreciating the fact that this is not a Sterek centric story. Though Sterek is my OTP for the fandom, I still ship practically all the ships, so I love 'em all and I hope you can appreciate that in the story. I'm repeating myself now, I'll stop. Enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Translations and Names:
> 
> Parasite an aigne = meaning, ‘parasite of the mind‘  
> Éad = meaning envious  
> Paien = French, meaning ‘nobleman’  
> Hattil = Israeli, meaning ‘howling for sin’


	7. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They discuss a battle plan, though they say it is only to scout, the wolf feels a fight approaching in his bones.
> 
>    
> The thought both scares and excites him, knowing the battle will be fulfilling, but also dangerous. The druid will be there, he knows it; for the wolf they do hunt, and he can’t make it easy for them.

“Come on in!”

 

“How are you two settling in?” Deaton asks entering the girls’ chambers.

 

He can see Kira has settled in nicely, everything of hers already unpacked and neatly arranged around the room. Malia had nothing much in the way of material possessions to begin with, but she seems quite comfortable lounging in the corner sofa nearest the windows, overlooking the dense forest.

 

“It’s great!” Kira responds excitedly, “Right Malia?”

 

The coyote lolls her head against the sofa and shrugs half heartedly.

 

“Oh come on, you love it here, you said so yesterday.” Kira says with a smile.

 

“Yeah, it’s alright. Good view at least, and they have pretty great food too.”

 

“See, she loves it too.”

 

“I see.” Deaton suppresses a laugh.

 

“Did you need us for something?”

 

“By now you’ve seen or heard the rumors of Prince Derek’s pack gathering to head to battle in the forbidden forest?”

 

“Yeah, we going with ‘em?” Malia asks lazily.

 

“If you would like then you are allowed, Queen Laura and Prince Derek have both approved your joining the team.”

 

“I- I’m not sure it’s really our place.” Kira says suddenly.

 

“You saved the Lady Martin’s life, the both of you helped restore her and bring her home; you are every bit apart of this as the rest of them.” Deaton expresses calmly.

 

“Of course, we did- but, still it’s a family thing I think, and Malia and I are newcomers to the castle.”

 

“You don’t want to go?” Malia asks Kira, her eyes intense on the young kitsune.

 

“No, is that OK with you?”

 

“We can go to the forest later, when the wolf is dead or cured or whatever. “ Malia yawns, sinking further into comfort and ignoring the rest of the room.

 

“I guess it’s OK then; we’re not going. You didn’t think you’d actually need us right?”

 

“No, we’ll have it in hand I’m sure.” Deaton smiles assumingly, “I’ll need to get back to the Queen, she wants as much detail on the cure as possible before we send anyone out to scout the forest for the wolf.”

 

“OK, we’ll talk later? Oh! Can you return the Lady Lydia’s cloak to her please? I’m sure she’d rather you return it than me. She knows you a little better- anyway I don’t want to disturb her.”

 

“Of course I will Kira,” Deaton nods, “Malia.”

 

The coyote waves a hand nonchalantly to the room and Deaton nods in return before making his exit.

 

\--

 

“Deaton, good you’re here.”

 

“Yes Your Majesty.” Deaton enters the Queen’s chambers finding her in the small alcove deemed as her personal study.

 

“Alright. Explain the plan to me again in length, perfect detail.”

 

“Might I ask why, Your Majesty - we are meeting here instead of The Great Hall?” Deaton asks following her into the small study.

 

“I am writing a letter to my mother about the situation and I want her to know everything, I want her to be assured that it will work; as assured as I am.”

 

“I understand completely. If it is of any assertion I have also written Talia of the plan.”

 

“You- when did you do that?” Laura’s pale green eyes were on Deaton instantly.

 

“A few days ago, the day before we found Lady Martin in the forest to be exact.”

 

“You knew already that you would cure him- that you could?”

 

“I did.”

 

“I see. I shall still write her to assure her further however, I want her to know I am doing everything I can to save my Uncle.” Laura takes her seat at the desk and looks conflicted as she finds Deaton’s eyes again, “Did you- did she know about Peter before a few days ago?”

 

“She did not.”

 

“You kept it from her then? I mean- you knew, that it was Peter for a long time now, right?”

 

“Yes Your Majesty, that is correct.”

 

Laura scrutinizes the elder emissary before taking a breather and speaking again.      

 

“Why, why did you keep it from her?”

 

“You know how important family is to your mother- “

 

“To all of us.” Laura interrupts harshly.

 

“Yes. However your mother lost not only family and pack, but her own children in that fire. She stepped down shortly after and left you the throne. Peter went missing a year later and was missing for that year before I knew anything of what happened to him.”

 

“And you kept it to yourself to _what_ , spare her feelings?”

 

“I- did. She is my oldest and greatest friend, I have always viewed you, your brother and sister, Peter as well; as my family. My sister Marin was killed in the Battle of Hattil as you know, and she was my only living relative; your family is all I have as much as it is all _you_ have.”

 

Laura says nothing, only softens her glare.

 

“Your mother would have been devastated if I had given her false hope; if I had told her that Peter was infected with the parasite, but that I could not help him. So, I kept it hidden from you all and remained in the forest to find a cure.”

 

“You said- you said before that someone swore you to secrecy. You weren’t referring to yourself.” She doesn’t phrase a question and Deaton nods, “Who was it if not my mother?”

 

“Peter.”

 

“When!? You- spoke with him as the parasite, I thought you said he had no control?”

 

“It was earlier in the infection, when the parasite was still claiming his mind and body. He had more control then.” Deaton breathes slowly and takes the seat opposite the Queen, “He asked me first if there was a way to cure him, I told him I would surely find one, but it would take time.”

 

“So he- why did he stay in the forest instead of coming home? I don’t understand it.”

 

“I do not know.” She scoffs, “Truly I do not.”

 

“Fine. Continue then.”

 

“He asked me what exactly would happen to him and I explained what I could. He said it would be better if he remained away from his family so as not to hurt any of you, but I always believed that was not his only reason for not returning to you all.”    

 

Laura nods as Deaton meets her eyes.

 

“After his questions were answered to the best of my ability he swore me to secrecy and after a few moments of consideration I accepted his pleas.”

 

“Believing it would hurt us more than not knowing.”      

 

“Knowing he was alive, but no longer himself and that I was unsure if he could be saved, yes. I believed it would be best for none of you to know, and so did he.”      

 

“Then- you never spoke again?”

 

“We did not. I stayed in my side of the forest and he, in his. I heard stories over the years that a dark furred monster wolf roamed the forest and the secluded villages; they said he stole children into the night and devoured them.” Laura inhales sharply, “But I know it is untrue Your Majesty. I have followed him many times in the past, over the years he has taken only young adults, male and female and either turned them or let them go.”

 

“So- he has a pack in the forest?”

 

“No Your Majesty.”

 

“Just- do away with formality alright, it’s Laura, it’s always been Laura to you Alan.” She shifts in her chair, “What happened to them?”

 

“They died. Either by his own hands after their betrayal or by another creature or hunter.”

 

“Some of them must have been rogue to be killed by hunters?”

 

“Indeed they were. I want to assure you Peter no longer had control over himself when the wolf began turning younger people.”

 

“Why didn’t- it’s hard to believe that they didn’t all survive. Why didn’t he protect them.”

 

“The wolf- the parasite inside your uncle may have adapted and thrived under some of the conditions of being a werewolf, but it is by default a creature of loneliness. It seeks only one host at a time, conforming to their ways of life until it gets bored; eventually it moves on, however with Peter it has not. I believe it enjoys his body far too much, feeding on not only his darkest dreams, but his pain and guilt as well.”

 

“Knowing Peter he’ll never have enough of either.” Laura sighs.

 

“That is why I have been searching for the cure; a means not only to remove the parasite from your Uncle, but also to destroy the parasite completely.”

 

“A plan I entirely support. I don’t want this thing doing this to anyone, ever again. Save Peter at all costs, but _kill_ that creature.”

 

“It will be done Your- Laura.” Deaton bows his head slightly and Laura smiles.

 

“Alright, get out of here. I have a letter to write.”

 

“Talia is still in Nari I take it?” Deaton asks rising from his seat.

 

“The outskirts of our country yes, she was organizing the locals of the Brecilian forest and negotiating peace between the creatures and humans there for me.”

 

“I have yet to receive a response from her, how is she faring with her negotiations?”     

        

“She’s sorted it all out, of course. Hopefully she was heading back already and the courier who reached her with your letter has only sped up her trip home.”          

 

“I do hope so.” Deaton bows shortly, “I shall take my leave Queen Laura.”

 

“I’ll see you again the day of the battle, the scouts will be heading out in the morning.” She gives him a smile and a curt nod and he turns to leave.

 

Deaton can’t help but feel a weight fall away from him, multiple weights in fact. He’s told everyone what they need to know and he no longer has to deal with such a heavy secret; Peter would be saved in just a day or so. He was sure of it now, more so than he was before. Now he won’t have to do it all alone.

 

\----

 

_That damn druid…how clever he is. He’s warded the house, no- the **prison** that he keeps my queen. _

 

The wolf stalks the underbrush of the surrounding prairie; the large stone prison that smells of steel and poison taunts him from across the grounds. He can hear the people within, the dark haired huntress from the forest and an older man whose face he recognizes from somewhere but cannot place. They discuss a battle plan, though they say it is only to scout, the wolf feels a fight approaching in his bones.

 

The thought both scares and excites him, knowing the battle will be fulfilling, but also dangerous. The druid will be there, he knows it; for the wolf they do hunt, and he can’t make it easy for them.

 

No matter how much he desires to howl outside the barrier that holds his little red inside the prison; he won’t, he must be clever, as clever as the druid.

 

\--

 

It’s a very long run, but he finally sees the dim light of the town he found his darling queen in. He has a plan, a terrible _wonderful_ plan; he must make it harder for them, their human feelings will cloud their judgment and then he will have them.

 

The wolf breaks the tree line and runs; his blood pumping his teeth grinding and his eyes filled with a bloodlust that will be filled tonight. The town will scream and burn and die, and he will have his signal to the hunters, the jailers of his queen.

 

They will know he is ready to fight; but they will be surprised, they will falter, they will fail to take the shot to kill the wolf once they see, he is not alone.

 

\----

 

“Your Majesty!” Paien rushes into The Throne Room as the scouts have all arrived and the royals are seated in their thrones.

 

Allison, along with the entire room all turn in surprise and curiosity as the nobleman enters the room nearly screaming.

 

“Paien, lower your voice! What is it, what’s wrong?” Queen Laura says sternly.

 

“Uh- of course, Your Majesty. The- a guard from the gates says a townsperson from the nearby town of Braen has arrived this morning covered in blood.”

 

“Take a breather Lord Paien. What happened?” Queen Laura asks.

 

“He said that the wolf was there, in the town yesterday!” Everyone is quite shocked by this fact, but one look from The Queen and the room falls silent.

 

“Continue.”

 

“The wolf killed Guardsman Anwir, he- cut him in half.” Lord Paien basically whispers that last part.

 

Allison has to forcibly snap her mouth shut in response; wondering if Peter is completely lost to the creature controlling him or not. Surely he wouldn’t allow that to happen if he had any semblance of control left.

 

“No real loss there.” Queen Laura says flatly, and Prince Derek’s head snaps in her direction.

 

“Laura.” He grits out.

 

“Well, everyone knows he was a deserter in the Hattil Battle, and that he was corrupt, only doing his duties for that town when the townspeople would bribe him. We could simply never prove it, and when we could his noble father would sweep it under the rug of politics.”

 

Allison watches Crown Prince Derek inhale slowly and turn away in aggravation.

 

“He did me a favor really; however I will not wait any longer, not for him to kill someone who does not deserve it.” Queen Laura says loudly.

 

“What do you suggest Your Majesty?” Allison’s father asks tonelessly beside her.

 

“I would have your hunters join Derek’s pack as well as our emissaries to head out and meet the wolf in battle- “

 

The Prince groans audibly, and Princess Cora glares at her sister.

 

“But, I won’t. Instead I would allow your hunters to continue with their original objective. Scout the nearby town of Braen first; then track to the wolf to his next location and head from there. I want to know where he is now and what he’s up to, then we can send the rest to meet you.”

 

“Understood.” Allison’s father agrees.

 

The hunters exit The Throne Room in silence; no one even looks at each other until they are on their horses heading for Braen.

 

\--

 

“When we get to Braen I want you to follow Hunter Captain Allison’s commands, I am placing her as temporary Hunter Commander for this mission.” Her father yells over the galloping of their steeds.

 

“Dad?” Allison asks riding close to her father’s right side.

 

“I will deliver the shots to Peter myself once the battle begins, but you will be responsible for leading the team. It was your battle strategy, you trained these two, they are your hunters.”

 

Allison nods, letting her horse slow enough to meet the other two young hunters in their team.

 

“Lahey, you know what you’re doing when we get there?” She asks.

 

“Using my tracking skills to find the wolf’s path from the village.” He answers easily.

 

“Mahealani?” She asks the darker skinned hunter, who somehow manages a dazzling grin even at their current speed.

 

“Maintaining a secure distance from the rest of the team per your strategic instruction, as well as keeping the citizens from trampling all over the wolf’s tracks. Though, I did have a question Hunter General Argent.” Mahealani pipes up near the rear of the team.

 

“Yes Mahealani?” Her father questions.

 

“You’re a Hunter General, so, why aren’t you in charge of this mission; I mean the Queen is pretty personally involved right? No offense meant to your leadership capabilities Hunter Captain Argent, but it just seems irregular.”

 

“I asked your Captain to lead this mission in my stead, for personal reasons I’d rather not discuss.”

 

“I understand General Sir.” Mahealani finishes.

  
“Good, now that everyone understands the situation,” Allison nods to her hunters, “maintain speed, it’s not far now.”

 

\--

 

It takes the hunters all of ten minutes to reach the village at full speed; they are careful to stay on one side of the road as to maintain what they can of the wolf’s tracks. Allison hopes their efforts are not in vain as they reach the village.

 

“Captain.” Allison’s father nods to her as he dismounts his horse.

 

 _Right_ , he’s given her the responsibility to lead this mission, it’s her time to take the reins.

 

“Mahealani, keep them away from the road, keep them calm.” She orders.

 

“You’ve got it.” He nods and strides over to the confused villagers.

 

“Lahey-“ She turns to see Isaac already crouched, knee covered in mud, his fingers trailing the road.

 

She looks to her father; he’s observing the scene, his quick eyes taking in their surroundings, marking exits, tracking possible enemies and routes the wolf could have taken away from the small village.

 

Allison observes Mahealani’s progress with the villagers; to no one’s surprise but her own, he’s calmed them down and even gotten them laughing. She’d heard how great he was with negotiation, a true diplomat and skilled fighter; which was why she gave him such a duty in the first place. Regardless of her prior knowledge, she was still surprised at his speed and comfort in the situation.

 

She turns to Isaac, crouching beside him and quietly eyeing him.

 

“The wolf was definitely here. He ran along the road nearly the whole way from the forest I’d say; however he must have left the road at some point.”

 

“Or else the castle archers would have seen him.”

 

“Precisely. We’ll need to walk the rest of the way to follow him accurately.” 

 

Allison brushes her hand along his arm, retrieving a smirk from her fellow archer; she stands and announces to the villagers their plan to exit the village.

 

Some of them actually sound upset by the fact; some of the young men and women alike grabbing at Mahealani trying to force him to stay. He smiles his way out of their attempts and assures them he’ll come back to visit.

 

“You’re popular.” Isaac says slyly as Mahealani reaches their group.

 

“What can I say, people love me wherever I go.” He smirks haughtily before turning to Allison for his orders.

 

“You’ll follow behind Lahey, closely, stay with him no matter what.”

 

“Understood.” Mahealani says, his face suddenly serious. 

 

“General Argent and I will circle the back flank. Remain ever vigilant, the wolf could still be nearby.” 

 

Both hunters nod resolutely; Lahey takes the lead, tracking slowly along the road.

 

\--

 

The wolf had stayed along the road for at least 3 kilometers past the village before abruptly leaving the road in favor of a more subtle path. The left of the road led to a sheltered path coveted by trees and shrubs and the team all nod to each other before continuing to follow Lahey down the trail.

 

\--

 

“Here.” Lahey says quietly, kneeling into the melting snow, “He stayed here, moving only slightly, probably anxious.”

 

“Allison.” She looks to her father, his gaze not meeting hers and she follows his eyes.

 

She looks up and sees the gray bricks of a large estate, “Our estate.” 

 

“Why here?” Mahealani asks quietly.

  

“Lady Martin. The wolf bit her, but she never turned, she has some kind of immunity.” Her father says tightly.

 

“Immunity, that’s pretty rare.” Mahealani replies.

 

“What next Lahey?” Allison leans forward to see past Mahealani, and Isaac meets her eyes before searching the ground once more.

 

“He eventually retreated; he could have stayed here for hours without being seen.”

 

“The archers of the capital can’t see in this direction.” Allison replies.

 

“Blind spot.” Isaac agrees, “He fled this way, possibly after realizing he couldn’t enter the house.”

 

“What am I missing here? Why couldn’t he get in?” Mahealani asks Allison turning to follow Lahey.

 

“It was warded by Emissary Deaton the night before, when Lydia first moved into our estate.”

 

“Smart.” Mahealani replies.

 

“Yes." Allison notices the suspicion in her father's tone but pushes away the questions in her mind; Lahey nods to the rest of them and they continue on down the trail. 

 

\--

 

The path opens up, the narrowness of it spreading wide enough to allow Mahealani and Allison to walk side by side; her father at their backs and Lahey leading.

 

“Lahey?” Allison prompts after a few minutes.

 

“He ran forward here, never stopping; he was fast, and timed everything perfectly so that guards near the capital wouldn’t spot him on their rounds.”

 

“He was careful.” Allison’s father says quietly.

 

“That’s what it looks like.” Lahey replies without missing a word, “He trails off here, to the left path-“ he speeds up before stopping abruptly and raising his head.

 

“The forest.” Mahealani says tightly.

 

They all look up to see the deep dark woods ahead; _the wolf must have cut within and retreated to his den to plan his next move_.

 

“We’ll have to enter the forest to follow the rest of the wolf’s movements.” Lahey says flatly.

 

Allison turns to Mahealani and grabs his attention, “Send out a message to the castle to let them know we’re entering the forest to continue tracking the wolf.”

 

“On it.”

 

Allison hazards a look at her father, but he’s standing tall and as stoic as ever, never meeting her eyes.

 

She can hear Mahealani scribbling her message onto a parchment and watches as he sprinkles yellow powder onto the paper before releasing it. The parchment never touches the ground, instead flying into the air with a purpose; raising past the team and soaring through the air all on its own.

 

“It’s going to be a few minutes. Stiles gave me the powder said it’d be stronger than the usual stuff I use, so it shouldn’t deviate from the course even in the event of a strong wind.”

 

“Good. Let’s move then.” Allison nods to the team and allows Lahey to lead them into the forest’s depths.

 

\----

 

Her eyes open slowly, crusty from being closed for what felt like years of sleep; she opens her mouth to speak and finds it horribly dry. She coughs lightly and moves to a sitting position with great discomfort.

 

Her whole body is sore and heavy, her organs feel loose and her stomach acids slosh around as she pushes herself to throw her legs over the side of the bed.

 

“Ugh.” She groans dryly before planting her feet firmly on the ground; she won’t rush to stand, feeling how numb her feet are she wouldn’t risk injuring herself in such a foolish way.

 

Suddenly she remembers that night, the pain; the heat of his slimy tongue on her neck. She shudders and immediately regrets it feeling her side ache in response to the quick movement. Her side is hot, and pained, but thankfully it feels much better than it did when the beast’s fangs sunk into it.

 

Her fingers gently stroke the bandage covering her exposed side; her upper body only covered by wrapped linens, leaving her middle exposed. She looks around the room realizing instantly she is at the Argent estate; across the room stands next to a partition meant for changing and through the sheer of the fabric she can see a stand that seems to have clothes on it.

 

“Perfect.” She says finally able to feel her toes, she wiggles them and moves her feet until the feeling in her legs return.

 

She carefully stands and walks as slowly as possible to the partition; moving around it she strips herself and takes her time pulling on the simple gown waiting for her on its stand. There are soft slippers on the floor under the gown and she shoves her cold toes into them, moaning in comfort. The curtains to the left of her are closed and she attempts to walk gracefully to them; pulling them open she’s blinded by impossibly bright light.

 

She whines lightly before letting her eyes adjust, realizing the light was actually fairly dim outside, the clouds overcast against a dark sky; she was sure it was midday, but the weather is dreary.

 

She sighs heavily making her way back across the room and out of the door; down the hall she finds the grand stairs and grips the banister tightly as she makes her descent.

 

She can hear laughter, muffled but clearly the voice of a man; she follows the sounds of chatter and it leads her to the sitting room. Pushing open the door the rest of the way, she enters the cheery room to find-

 

“Lydia!” Stiles yells jumping off the sofa.

 

“Shh- not so loud Stiles.” Lydia says leaning against the great doors and gripping her head in irritation.

 

“Sorry-sorry. You’re supposed to be resting.“

 

“You mean unconscious?” Lydia mocks.

 

“No I mean resting. Deaton said you’d need fluids, and food and lots and lots of rest.”

 

“So you had no doubt I’d be fine?” Lydia asks seriously.

 

“Nope. “

 

“Deaton said you’d wake up for sure.” Scott says standing to cross the room, Stiles hot on his heels.

 

“What are you- “

 

“I’m leading you to your room Lady Lydia.”

 

“Lydia is fine, and I know, but I can walk just fine you don’t have to hold my elbow like a child.”

 

“I figured you’d like to be treated royally.” Stiles says nonchalantly.

 

Lydia knew what he was up to, but she let Scott lead her regardless; truthfully she needed the help standing.

 

“Fine. You can both wait on me and as soon as we get back to my room you can both sit down and tell me everything that’s happened while I was out.”

 

“You got it, Your Highness.” Stiles smirks giving her a mock bow.

 

Lydia simply sniffs at him before turning to the path ahead of her; Scott was completely gentle and accommodating to her speed as he helped her up the stairs. As they reach the top she can’t help feeling a lot better, suddenly her pain is dulled and her sores all but gone.

 

“Scott! Man, I warned you about that stuff- you have to ask first.” Stiles says slapping his friend’s shoulder.

 

“Ask about what?” Lydia says looking down at the hand holding her elbow and gasping when she sees black veins creeping away from her skin and into Scott’s, “What- ?”

 

“I was just- sorry. Stiles is right I should ask first, it can feel really- odd to some humans. Sorry.”

 

“What were you doing?”

 

“He was being all caring and noble by leeching your pain with his werewolf mojo.”

 

“Werewolf- “

 

“Mojo.” Stiles says flatly.

 

Lydia looks to Scott for further explanation, “It’s a werewolf ability, all werewolves have it and it’s- “

 

“Amazing.” Stiles says happily.

  
Scott gives Stiles a weird look before offering to retake Lydia’s elbow, she allows it, “It’s really uncommon among other species, mostly shapeshifters have the natural ability to do it, so other species have tried fighting over it in the past. It never made any sense to me, I mean, we can just share it if they need it, so there really isn’t a need to start fights over it. Anyway, Lydia if you start to feel, hazy or- uh Stiles, what’s the word?”

 

“Elation, total elation.” Stiles smirks.

 

“That’s the word, yeah.” Scott smiles.

 

“I think I got it.” Lydia says teetering, “Did you drug me with your- mojo?”

 

“What?” Scott asks, and Lydia can hear Stiles chuckle.

 

“OK, the room is moving, how are you doing that?”

 

Stiles chuckles harshly and Lydia can see a blur of movement and Stiles yelps.

 

“Lydia, let’s just get you back to be alright, you’ll be fine in about five minutes.” Scott says soothingly, his voice is distant but Lydia can still feel his arm gripping her elbow.

 

“If you can stay awake that’d be great, seriously weird dreams when under the influence of wolfy mojo.” 

 

“Stiles stop it.”

 

\--

 

“Alright I’m- fine now. That was very strange, but I’m fine.”

 

“Oh good.” Scott sighs, “So you want us to tell you everything now?”

 

“Let me get us some food and drink, ale maybe?”

 

“Wine.” Lydia answers demandingly.

 

“You got it. Scott you start the- story and I’ll be back.”

 

\--

 

“That’s everything I think.” Stiles says around a mouth of bread, Lydia glares, “What?”

 

“Everything, except what happened immediately after _Peter_  bit me.” She says harshly, still wary of the news that the wolf is actually a Hale royal and that he had no control over himself when he hurt her.

 

“Oh right- uh, Scott?”

 

“After you were attacked? Right. Deaton, Stiles’ mentor, he saved you.”

 

“Him and Kira, and Malia.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Kira is a kitsune from Japan and Malia is a werecoyote from the forest. They were living with Deaton and helped him save you.” Stiles answers simply.

 

“Alright, where are they now, the fox and the coyote?”

 

“They have a room at the palace, Laura is letting them stay there.” Stiles answers after sipping down some wine.

 

“Alright. What happened after they saved me- no wait how did they save me actually?”

 

“They didn’t fight the wolf, apparently they uh- well he ran away after he saw Deaton I think.” Scott looks to Stiles for help.

 

“Yeah Peter knows Deaton and the wolf must have known that Deaton could trap or destroy him with magic, so he ran off before he could.”

 

“Then Deaton and the others carried you to their home and nursed you back to health.”

 

“For all of a day- then Allison and her hunters, plus Derek’s pack came to get Deaton and found out about you.” Stiles says, “Then Scott carried you out of the forest and everybody came back to the capital.”

 

“Deaton is in the castle now?”

 

“Yeah, so is most everyone, except us- and Allison and her hunters.”

 

“Right, they are out tracking the wolf.” Lydia nods.

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“How did I- how did I survive Stiles?”

 

Scott goes still next to her and she doesn’t meet Stiles' eyes, preferring to stare at her hands waiting for his answer.

 

“You’re- apparently you’re immune.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took me so long to upload this! You should get another chapter later this weekend, probably tomorrow even. Enjoy the chapter and please tell me what you thought about it with a comment or kudos.
> 
> I seriously love comments.
> 
> Braen = Welsh, meaning ‘corrupt’  
> Nari = Latin, meaning ‘strong, hardy’


	8. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fire’s heat can be felt at a great distance; its flames rage high in the sky, unquenchable and furious.

“Immune?”

 

The list of creatures that are immune to the bite of an alpha were few in number and none of them were human.

 

“Yeah- as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that means you’re not entirely human.”

 

“Stiles!”

 

“Scott, trust me- she would have figured it out all on her own in minutes. Telling her as much let’s her know we aren’t trying to keep it from her.” Stiles says soothingly.

 

“Do you, know what I am then?” Lydia whispers.

 

“We don’t know. As you know there’s a pretty short list of creatures that are immune to an alpha, so we’ve got it narrowed, but- Deaton said he wouldn’t know until you started manifesting abilities.”

 

“I already have.”

 

“What?!” Stiles nearly chokes on his mead.

 

“When- what?” Scott stutters.

 

“Calm down you guys. I actually- I mean I figured this might happen.”

 

“Sorry?” Stiles stares, mouth hanging open in shock.

 

“My mom was a _banshee_ , and she said I might be too, but she was never sure since my father was human. She told me about the signs, taught me things about how to handle it if it ever- started.” Lydia discloses.

 

“A banshee? So, you knew this would- that it might happen someday?” Scott asks quietly.

 

“I didn’t know I was immune to The Bite, nobody ever told me that.” Lydia scoffs, “But I knew I was a banshee, only for a few months now really, but I was prepared.”

 

“Your, your mother taught you?” Scott asks.

 

“Yes. As much as she could before she died, and as much as she could without me actually showing signs of having her powers.”

 

Scott nods and gazes to his right, “Stiles?”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles says tightly, not meeting Lydia’s eyes.

 

“I didn’t tell anyone, not even Allison. The only person who knew was Lady Blake, my mentor. She’s an emissary, and she’d been friends with my mother. She knew right away when I’d started hearing voices, and she helped me through it.” Lydia says quietly.

 

Stiles takes a deep breath and sighs.

 

“Are you mad at me?”

 

“No- it’s just I wish I knew. I could have helped you too you know.” Stiles says finally looking at her, his gaze soft.

 

“Of course you could have; but I wanted to deal with it myself, as much as I could.”

 

“You really had no idea you’d be immune?” Stiles asks.

 

Lydia shakes her head, “Not at all.”

 

“Well, Deaton and- everybody actually should be relieved that you already know what you are and how to deal.” Stiles rubs a hand down his face and sighs.

 

“I’m going to send a message, get Deaton here, if you’re ready for more visitors Lydia?” Scott asks.

 

“Yes, I’d like to speak with him I think, at the very least to tell him myself about my abilities, and to learn more about Peter’s infection.”

 

Scott nods and leaves the room; Stiles turns to face the windows across the room and Lydia grips his hand in hers. He squeezes back and she can see his cheeks rise in a smile.

 

\----

 

“Over here.” Lahey whispers to Mahealani and he in turn relays the message down the line.

 

“What have you found?” Allison’s father asks.

 

“The wolf’s den- wait.” Isaac sniffs the air, “Smoke.”

 

“He’s lit a fire?” Mahealani asks confused.

 

“No- look there.” Allison points seeing the black smoke rising in the distance.

 

“I smell him here, but he’s gone. I think the smoke is our best bet right now.”

 

“Agreed.” Allison’s father nods to her and they follow Lahey toward the plume of black rising in the setting sun.

 

\--

 

“That’s Ashley,” Allison whispers, “Lydia’s hometown.”

 

“The wolf is there.” Lahey says ruefully.

 

Allison sees the fires raging in town, several buildings are alight; the townspeople are nowhere to be seen, which Allison hopes is a good sign. She knows a powerful emissary lives in town, _maybe she saved everyone?_

 

“What now?” Mahealani looks at Allison, his brows pulled together in question.

 

“We search the town for survivors,” She turns to her father, “Dad, I want you near the trees keeping watch. We’ll clear the town.”

 

“Good plan.” He agrees.

 

“Can’t we- I mean, no offense to your plan Captain, but can’t Lahey track the wolf while we clear the buildings?”

 

“Argent knows I can’t smell him over the smoke and fire. His trail stops here.” Isaac responds flatly.

 

“Damn. Alright soot here we come.” Mahealani quips; Lahey nods to Allison and the three of them break the tree line of the forest and head straight for the burning town.

 

\--

 

The fire’s heat can be felt at a great distance; its flames rage high in the sky, unquenchable and furious.

 

Allison yells to Mahealani to take the eastern buildings while Lahey takes west and she ventures north; her father remains to their southern most position, nearest the road and the trees, his crossbow at the ready.  

 

Allison uses the beautiful green scarf Lydia hand stitched for her hunter uniform to cover her mouth against the fumes and smoke; Lahey does the same and Mahealani pulls one from his pocket to follow suit.

 

Allison tries to be quick, yelling for survivors over the heat and fume; but no matter what she does the smoke bleeds through, choking her. She runs back outside after only a few minutes coughing harshly; her hands on her knees as she doubles over, she breathes in the cold air of outside trying to cool her burning lungs.

 

“Damn! No luck?” Mahealani yells over the cracking of flames.

 

Allison turns her head finding him near a burning home across the way.

 

“No, you?”

 

“Nothing!” She sees movement over his head and points, after failing to yell, her throat raw,

 

Mahealani looks up in the direction of Allison’s gesture, “Shit!”

 

He leaps out of the way just as part of the roof of the building he’d just cleared falls to the ground where he was standing. _That was too close,_ Allison thinks, breathing harshly.

 

“Hey! Got a survivor over here!” Lahey yells running out from behind a charred building.

 

“Mahealani go!” Allison rushes to follow behind the hunter.

 

They peel the corner together seeing Lahey pull a woman from a burning building just after the arch collapses behind them, barring any further entry.

 

“Is she alive?” Allison asks rushing to put her arm under the woman’s other shoulder, helping Lahey to heave her to safety.

 

“Yeah, her heart is beating slowly, but she’s alive.”

 

“Let’s get her to my dad, away from the fire.” Allison nods to Lahey and he squints back, she turns her eyes to the other hunter, “Mahealani- “

 

“Got you both covered on the way.”

 

\--

 

Her father’s crimson jacket is a beacon of color through the smoke, and using it as her guide Allison leads the hunters toward the road.

 

“Is she alive?” Allison’s father yells running toward them and ushering Mahealani to take over his post.

 

“She is.” Lahey wheezes.

 

“Lahey?” Allison prods.

 

“I- I think there was wolfsbane in that house.” He breathes.

 

“Oh my- Isaac!” She yells, gripping his arms as he buckles to the ground, she stares up at her father, her arms around Isaac’s shoulder, “What do we do?”

 

“We’ll have to get him to Deaton.” He says tightly.

 

“But the mission?” Mahealani asks confused.

 

“Allison, you and Mahealani stay behind, continue the mission. I’ll take Isaac home, get him help.”

 

“But- “

 

“Allison, unless you have a better idea I’d suggest you do as I ask.” Her father says shortly, before giving her a soft look, “I’ll get him help.”

 

Allison bites her lip, looking back at Isaac who is much paler and looks in pain; she pushes her head into his neck and kisses his forehead as she stands. His fingers fall away from hers and he tries a smirk to reassure her, but he just looks weak.

 

“Are you- “

 

“I’m sure.” Her father says tonelessly.

 

“OK, take him. We’ll search the outskirts of the town for any survivors and head back the way we came.”

 

“The den?” Mahealani asks.

 

“Yes. The wolf has to return there sometime. We’ll watch it and wait for him to return.”

 

“Then what?” Her father asks gruffly pulling Isaac from the ground and hefting his arm over his shoulders.

 

“We won’t engage. Our mission is to find him, not attack. After we’ve spotted him we’ll send a report and wait for further instruction.” Allison assures him.

 

“Good. Get going.” Allison’s father says finally, walking away and pulling a sickly looking Isaac with him.

 

\----

 

The fire could be felt even now, his fur still burned in delight as he stalks through the woods; his teeth still stained with blood and his claws still humming with the vibrations of hitting them upon steel. The screams of the villagers still loud in his mind he reluctantly pulls his attention back to the moment at hand; he hums in pleasure as he spots his victim where he’d left the poor thing.

 

He wasn’t supposed to turn him, but he wanted to try it anyway, once he got rid of the hunters that stalked him. He would kill them all when they came, using their fear of him and their human emotions, their desire to help the boy would make them hesitate. He would use whatever dirty tricks he could, after all, they weren’t going to fight fair, why should he?

 

The boy moans in pain as the wolf picks him up and flings him over his shoulder; to his den they go, where they’d wait in anticipation for the hunters to return.

 

Surely they’d have seen the fire by now, gone to investigate and found the town decimated by flame; they’d be searching for him soon enough, unprepared for what he had planned.

 

The wolf grins ferociously as he takes a last look around his cave, the boy whining on his shoulder; he sniffs irritated before delving into the black of his den.

 

\----

 

“Stop…”

 

“Isaac, I can’t.”

 

“No- I hear something coming.”

 

“Enemies?”

 

“No, something flying…” Isaac coughs.

 

Chris turns around slowly enough that Isaac could follow without whining in pain, and he looks up to see parchment trailed by golden specks flying toward him.

 

“What is it?” Isaac whispers.

 

“News from Allison.”

 

“They were attacked?”

 

Chris grabs the parchment from the air as it slows near him and rips it open; throwing the paper to the ground afterward and heaving Isaac to a better position on his shoulders.

 

“Argent…are they OK?”

 

“It’s good news.” He says smiling at Isaac softly.

 

“What? They found the wolf?”

 

“Better- they found an emissary.”

 

\----

 

“You- your Lady Blake right?” Allison asks surprised by the appearance of the woman.

 

“I am, and you are?”

 

“Allison Argent, I’m a friend of Lydia Martin.”

 

“She’s told me much about you, follow me, the survivors are this way.”

 

“Survivors?” Mahealani asks looking at Allison.

 

“Come on.” The emissary replies disappearing into the treeline.

 

“Can we trust this woman?” Mahealani asks quietly, following closely behind Allison.

 

“She’s an emissary- oh- she’s an emissary!” Allison rushes forward grabbing Blake by the arm and turning her around, “My- friend, Isaac he was poisoned by wolfsbane helping a woman from a fire.”

 

“The woman your friend here is carrying? Her name is Ellen; she’s a good friend of mine.” Blake smiles, “Where is this Isaac?”

 

“He’s with my father, I- Mahealani hand me her and send a message to my father and Isaac. They can’t have gotten too far yet,” Allison orders stepping toward the hunter to take the limp woman from his shoulders.

 

“Got it.”

 

\--

 

“I will mark a path to us for your friend and your father.” Blake says her eyes becoming completely white, glowing like the sun.

 

She raises a hand to the sky and mutters something, flicking her wrist at the air; Allison’s mouth drops open as a white light shoots up right above their heads and races back past them,  in the direction of the village.

 

“The path of light will reach the road and guide the men to us.” Blake explains, her eyes returning to their natural blue-green tones.

 

“Thank you.”  The emissary smiles gently at Allison’s thanks before ushering them to follow her deeper into the forest.

 

“It’s not far, the survivors are many, and I’ve placed them behind a barrier for their safety.”

 

“How many are dead?” Allison asks quickly.

 

“Four died in the blaze, three guards were killed, they sacrificed themselves to secure the villagers getaway. I thought Ellen was among the fallen, but you've saved her. One other man is missing as wel; a young man who had arrived in town just today; I believe the wolf took him.”

 

“He was new to town?” Mahealani asks taking the woman back from Allison as they walk after Blake.

 

“Yes. He was at the edge of town, only having gathered supplies to once again hit the road when the wolf emerged.”

 

“What happened then?” Allison asks, her throat finally feeling better.

 

“The wolf knocked down the young man and rushed toward the town. He- attacked a guard, killed him, and unfortunately the guard had been carrying a torch trying to light the town sconces for the evening.”

 

“So that’s how the town caught fire?” Mahealani asks.

 

“Yes, however it would have been put out quickly if the wolf hadn’t grabbed more torches and continued throwing them at the houses. The fire was too large to put out after that and the townspeople opted to instead run for the forest, knowing I was nearby gathering herbs.”

 

“You weren’t in town when it started?” Allison asks.

 

Blake shakes her head, “I did however hear the screams and prepared a barrier before the first survivors emerged before me; I then returned to the town prepared to battle the wolf. He was gone however, so I saved who I could. Luckily _most_ of the townspeople had already escaped thanks to the guardsmen's sacrifice.”

 

“Those guards were brave, fighting the wolf as they did. Their deaths won't be in vain Lady Blake, we will make sure of that.”

 

“Thank you Lady Allison. Honestly I thought the wolf would claim more victims, however it seems he was more concerned with the fire than the townspeople.”

 

“He wanted us to see the smoke, to come here searching for him.” Allison shudders at the realization, hardening her face soon after.

 

"It wasn't a trap though- he isn't here anymore, so what the hell was the point?" Mahealani asks clearly confused. Allison remains silent, not sure what to say; it seemed like the wolf had some kind of plan, _but why lure them here, why start the fire?_

 

Blake nods back to them, "We're here."

 

She pushes past  some bare shrubs and leads the hunters into a small clearing; a shimmer of light hangs over the air, from the ground to the sky. It was shaped like an orb, white in tone but nearly transparent to the naked eye.

 

“Whoa…” Mahealani whispers behind Allison and she nods, mouth parted in surprise.

 

Allison smiles as she sees a bunch of people inside the great orb, resting together; they look somewhat happy despite their town burning down.

 

“They look alright- more than alright actually.” Mahealani says dumbfounded.

 

“Can I- I mean I just wondered where your mate was Lady Blake?” Allison asks suddenly.

 

“Kali is out of the country, her and the pack are travelling, visiting their families across the great sea. They are to return in a week or so.” Blake smiles at the group of people and ushers the hunters to join them.

 

“We’d love to stay and rest, but I’d like to get back to the road to make sure Isaac and my father find their way.”

 

“Your companion is welcome to stay while you head for the road. We can get Ellen some medical care at the very least.” Mahealani looks to Allison, obviously inclined to take a short rest with the people.

 

“Stay here, help keep these people safe, and get some rest. I’m heading for the road to make sure they get here safely.”

 

“Understood- and Allison?” She turns to him knowing he would only use her first name if he was truly concerned, “Stay safe.”

 

“You too Danny.”

 

Allison nods to everyone and says her thanks and that she’ll return soon. She hopes they’ve made it by now; she needs to know their safe.

 

\--

 

“Dad, Isaac!” Allison runs from the tree line to see her father and Isaac reaching the town just as she does.

 

“Got your message, where is the emissary?”

 

“The path here, the light- we just follow it. She saved a lot of them, almost the whole town dad. There were a few casualties, and someone- a young man was taken by the wolf.”

 

“The wolf took someone?” Her father goes silent before meeting her eyes even as they struggle to carry Isaac through the forest, "What happened? How'd the fire start?"

 

“The wolf started the fire purposefully. It seems he wanted us here.”

 

“He’s planning something.” Allison’s father agrees allowing Allison to take her place under Isaacs other arm, helping him along the path, “You said- Blake?”

 

“Yes, Julia Blake, she’s Lydia’s mentor and boss.”

 

“She’s mated to Alpha Kali isn’t she?”

 

“She is. She said Kali and her pack are overseas on their way home in a week.”

 

“I see. Well, at least there weren't a lot of casualties- we need to get Isaac to her as soon as possible.” Allison’s father says speeding his pace, following the glowing marker overhead.

 

\----

 

“Hey- Lyds, Scottie!” Stiles rushes into the room, “Deaton said he’ll be here soon, but he just got a message from Allison’s team and they found where the wolf was last.”

 

“And?” Lydia asks.

 

“Apparently he- burned down your town. But! Almost everyone survived, which is pretty amazing. Your boss, Blake, she's alive.”

 

“Well- at least _most_ everyone is OK.” Lydia sighs, “Wait, the whole town is gone- that means-my house.” She pouts and Scott pats her hand in sympathy.

 

“Yeah, your mentor Blake saved everyone she could- oh and Isaac was poisoned after pulling somebody from a fire, there was wolfsbane in the house I guess, but he’s _fine_ now.” Scott breathes a heavy sigh of relief, “They did say that one guy was taken; they don’t know who he is though, apparently he was just passing through the town and got nabbed by the wolf when the whole thing went down.” Stiles finishes.

 

“What about the mission, are they going after him?” Scott asks.

 

“Deaton said the Queen is having everyone come back, and she’s going to house the survivors until they can find somewhere to go; then the mission will continue I guess.” Stiles cants his head and smiles.

 

Lydia sighs, “Pretty good news then.” 

 

\----

 

His eyes open slowly; looking around he sees nothing but darkness and he rushes to sit up bumping his head on something hard. He puts his hand in front of his face, seeing nothing his heart races, his breathing shallow and fast.

 

“What’s, where am I- hello?” He yells, his voice hoarse with fear.

 

“Calm yourself child.” A sultry voice whispers from the darkness.

 

“Who- who are you, where am I? Why can’t I see anything?” The man whispers, terrified that he’s gone blind.

 

“It’s very dark, that’s all. You’re not blind or anything as terrifying as that.” The being assures him, as though he’s read his mind.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“My name? You can call me, Mister Wolf.” The voice says his name harshly.

 

The man shudders against the sudden rush of cold and realizes his cloak and boots have been taken; he’s wearing only his trousers and a light tunic. He pats his body and throws his arms around his torso in an effort to warm himself; he doesn’t know what he should be doing.

 

“Wondering how to act? Do you not remember what happened?” The voice asks curiously.

 

“I- there was a fire- and a beast a terrible beast.” The man stutters.

 

“I saved you from the fire, you were unconscious and I whisked you away to protect you from the flames.”

 

“Thank you, I can’t hope to repay you for what you’ve done I-“ The man stops speaking suddenly, before taking a short breath and asking, “What- what about the beast, how did you get us away?”

 

“Well, that’s easy, you see boy,” The man can hear movement across from him and the silent steps of someone walking barefoot toward him, “I am the beast.”

 

The glow of red eyes suddenly appear in front of the man and he’s breathless; he can’t think or scream he wants to run, but how could he in this perfect darkness.

 

“Don’t worry my boy, I have no intention of harming you.” The wolf claims, “However, I can’t say the same for those hunting me. You see, they plan to kill me, and I can’t have that, so I’ve taken you as my hostage to dissuade them from killing me. I can’t guarantee they won’t just shoot through you to get to me however.” The wolf whispers, his hot breath burning the man’s neck.

 

“I- why are you doing this?”

 

“Didn’t I just explain that?”

 

“I meant- why me?”

 

“You smelled sweet, delectable. I’ve smelled such a scent before and, well honestly I just can’t help myself around such innocence.” He brushes what feels like a claw over the man's neck and he shudders; the beast huffs a hot breath out over the mans face.

 

“Innocent? I’m not so sure you're right about that.” The man whispers.

 

The creature has no idea what he’s dealing with; usually he would hide it, in fact he’d been running from the truth of his nature for so long now he could barely stand it anymore, but now, he has no choice.

 

“Oh? Is that right?” The wolf asks, his voice husky with intent.

 

“I don’t usually let people see this, but then again- neither of is really a _person_ , are we?” 

 

His senses flare, his eyes adjust to the dark and suddenly he can see; his head is bowed to the wolf, but he can see the ground, the wolf’s paws inches from his crotch. The air changes, a hint of curiosity enters the man’s nostrils and he feels the wolf tense before him, his clawed finger pulling away from where he was stroking the man's throat. 

 

“What- how are you doing that? Your scent- it’s wrong! You tricked me!” The wolf snarls.

 

The man raises his head slowly, his head spasms and he has to take care not to crack it open as he allows the change. His teeth turn black and jagged, his jaw dropping open to show the wolf his own snarling mouth; the wolf jumps back and readies himself for battle and the man can't help but smirk.

 

The man raises his head fully and lets his slitted yellow eyes pierce the darkness to glare at the wolf; he growls lowly now realizing the danger he’s placed himself in. The man stands, slowly, slinking away from the wall; his transparent claws extend along his human fingernails, leaking its clear venom. He snarls at the wolf allowing his tail to whip across the air before dropping into a low crouch and hissing loudly at the wolf.

 

“You’re- no, that’s not possible. How did you trick me?” The man snarls in return, “You’re…”

 

The wolf growls harshly and the man simply smirks letting his tail whip around eagerly. The wolf grits his fangs after making the realization.

 

“Kanima.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said you'd all get another chapter quick didn't I? Enjoy it and let me know if you do.


	9. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deaton wakes in the middle of the night to a cold chill; and he hears a screeching in the air outside his windows. He tosses his layers of blankets off of him and rushes with a candle to the window; nothing is visible in the blackness of the forest to the right, beyond the walls of the capital. He’s about to return to bed when he sees something leaping from the forest tree line; he sees no distinctive signs of the wolf other than its speed. From this distance it’s nothing but a black blur of movement against the melting snow of the land between the forest and the wall.

“That little…damn lizards.” The wolf snarls as he crawls toward the entrance of his den, bleeding and still half paralyzed.

 

**_He paralyzed you, lucky he didn’t kill you before he fled._ **

 

“You mean, lucky he didn’t kill _us_?” The voice is quiet after that, probably smirking over the wolf’s failure to kill the boy.

 

 _How did I not see it?_ The wolf thinks angrily, _At least smell it on him, I should have sensed it in some way. How did he hide it?_

The wolf pulls himself into the light of the falling sun and stops on his back staring at the tall trees around him. He had to make sure he was back to full strength before going after the people in the village; he’d lost his leverage over the hunters, his only options now were to either find another hostage or attack them head on.

 

He wasn’t afraid of them; the body he controlled was strong and fast, skilled and deadly. No, it was the Druid he feared; the Druid that could trap him, that spent so long in the forest searching for a _cure_.

 

The Druid didn’t seem the type to give up; he would only leave if he’d found something.

 

\--

 

“Finally!” The wolf pounces to his feet, no longer paralyzed by the reptiles’ venom, he snarls at the forest testing the area for enemies; nothing alerts him and he decides it’s time to find the humans from the village he’d razed.

 

\--

 

_Nothing. No one left._

 

The wolf howls in frustration, his neck elongating to his full height. The fire has ceased, somehow they stopped it, but not before it managed to destroy the entire town. That wasn’t good, satisfying as it is to the wolf, he knew the puny humans would have nowhere to return to; they would seek refuge in the capital, where the wolf could not venture.

 

 _Perhaps they are still travelling? I can find them, tear them apart, save for one young innocent of course._ The wolf grins excited by his new plan.

 

Tearing out of the charred remains of the village he barrels down the road at top speed; finding their scent isn’t difficult once he’s far enough away from the smell of soot and ashes.

 

 _No!_ The wolf resists the urge to howl this time, knowing it would only get him killed; but he can smell the magic in the air, feel the presence of a sorcerer. _A druid is with them._

The wolf has no choice but to retreat, knowing he’d fail in a fight against the druid woman; and besides her, they have at least four hunters with them. He will just have to follow them on their trip to the capital, see if there is any way to snatch an innocent on the way there; he needed leverage.

 

He knew he needed something, a good plan, something solid or else he would surely be trapped; the Druid, that dark skinned magic man would be after him; next time he met him he would have to be ready.

 

\----

 

“Lady Blake?” Allison speeds up a bit to walk along the emissary’s side.

 

“Yes My Lady?”

 

“Allison, please. I wondered how Isaac was poisoned back there, thank you again for healing him, but I wondered if the house your friend was found in might have belonged to you.”

 

“It did in fact. When I was healing Ellen’s burns I found she had some aconite in her lungs as well; a jar of it must have broken with the house was collapsing during the fire, and she and your fellow hunter both inhaled it.”

 

“I see, that makes sense. Ellen, why was she there? Looking for you?” Allison asks curiously.

 

“Yes, she said after she didn’t find me that she heard more screaming from the town and decided instead to arm herself; taking to my poisons and herbs to protect herself.”

 

“I understand now. It was very brave of you to protect them and return to the town to attack the wolf.” Allison compliments.

 

“Thank you, but truly I take it upon myself to protect the people in whatever place I live. My abilities were gifted to me by the Gods to do just that; it’s my purpose in life, I believe, to help however many people I can with my magic and knowledge of healing. Besides it was the guardsmen that truly saved the townspeople.” Blake says easily.

 

“Well, I admire your bravery and their sacrifice.” Allison finishes, smiling to the emissary before nodding as she returns to her place alongside her father and the other two hunters, “How is Isaac?”

 

“Much better now, walking on his own, breathing well. He’ll be just fine.” Her father says gratefully, eyeing Lady Blake ahead of them.

 

“Great- uh, I’m going to go see him.”

 

“Stay watchful Allison. The wolf might still be around.”

 

“I will father, I promise.” Allison smiles as she turns to wade through the group to find Isaac.

 

“Allison?” Isaac raises his head from walking alongside a small child, “Come to check on us?”

 

“Yes, not that you need the help it seems.” She chuckles softly spying Isaac’s hand locked firmly with the smiling boy.

 

“Yes, he- uh insisted on holding my hand while we walk to the capital.” Isaac says with a crooked smile.

 

“I see, well, do you think it’d be OK if I held your other hand?” She says meeting the child’s green eyes.

 

“OK!” The boy chirps excitedly.

 

“Great!” Allison rushes to stand next to him and keep pace with the boys, reaching her hand down and letting the child squeeze her palm softly.

 

She grins kindly, looking up to see Isaac smiling at her, his features soft and his eyes penetrating. She smiles away shyly paying attention to their trail rather than Isaac’s golden curls or kind expressions; she has more important things to think about after all.

 

Of course, that doesn’t mean she can’t steal a glance at the young hunter every now and then.

 

\----

 

“So, Scott, now that Stiles has retreated back to the kitchen to actually get us some food, I think we can take this time to catch up on less life threatening events. What do you say?” Lydia replies, letting a sly smirk rise at the corner of her mouth.

 

“Yes, of course My Lady.”

 

“Please Scott, we can dispense with formalities for now.” She says waving a hand easily at the surprised Knight.

 

“Oh- of course my- Lydia, Lydia sorry. I guess I still need to get used to it. I’ve actually just gotten used to calling Allison by only her name and not her title.”

 

“Oh really?” Lydia asks knowingly.

 

“I- uh what did you want to talk about?”

 

“Come, sit down on the bed.” Scott stands looking around, probably for somewhere to hide Lydia guesses, “Don’t be shy, I have no intention of making any moves on you Scott. Get over here and sit down, we’re going to have a civilized conversation.”

 

“OK.” Scott walks over slowly, settling on the bed as far away from Lydia as possible.

 

“Ugh- alright.” She groans quietly, “Now, how are things going between you and Allison?”

 

“Um, what do you- “ She raises a hand to silence him.

 

“Please Scott, I already know something is going on, has been since before I was laid up. So, how is it going?”

 

“It’s great.” Scott stares at the bed smiling cutely.

 

“How’s the sex?”

 

“My Lady!” Scott exclaims and Lydia just laughs haughtily.

 

“I’m only teasing- unless you’ve actually gotten that far already?”

 

“Just, courting, we’re only courting.” Scott says breathlessly.

 

“I see. So, have you decided between Allison or Isaac yet, or are you just going to court them both?” Scott’s head springs up in utter shock.

 

\--

 

“Alright food is here, everyone decent?” Stiles leans his head around the door smirking before seeing Scott in a dark corner of the room and Lydia looking the picture of innocence, “What did you do to him?”

 

“I have no idea what you mean.” Lydia says sweetly.

 

“Uh huh sure you don’t.” Stiles enters the room fully and lets the servant enter in after him bringing in trays of food on a wheel cart.

 

“Wow Stiles, that’s a lot.” Scott says coming out of the corner in curiosity.

 

 _Of course he comes out of the corner for food, why didn’t I think of using that to entice him into giving me the details of his threesome?_ Lydia frowns lightly at the thought.

 

“Yeah well, we’re hungry growing young people are we not? Plus you’re a werewolf so you can eat at least half of this by yourself.” Scott opens his mouth to protest, “Oh don’t even Scott- you know as well as I do that amazing cake I baked last Friday did not go missing by itself.”

 

“That could have been- “

 

“You man, it was _you_. You had cake crumbs on your face, icing behind your ear! I still don’t even know how that got there.” Stiles says skeptically.

 

“OK fine, it was me alright. I’m a werewolf, I eat a lot. Can we just move on please?” Scott almost whines and Stiles thanks the staff before they leave and gesture to Scott to join him.

 

“You aren’t forgetting about me are you boys?” Lydia says shrewdly.

 

“Of course not.” Stiles says without missing a beat and carries a tray of food to her.

 

It’s littered with food, starting with thinly sliced meats and hearty vegetables; the deserts were her only concern for now however, she needed something sweet and delicious after going through such as ordeal.

 

 _It should be a law._ Lydia smirks taking up a fork and diving into the small carrot cake; as much as a proper lady could dive into anything that is. The tray held flowers in the far corner, purple and pink, beautiful and cheerful; _the staff here really know how to treat a lady._

 

“Amazing!” Stiles moans around his food.

 

“Stiles, chew first man!” Scott chuckles after swallowing his own meal. He’d already _wolfed_ half of his food down, mostly meat, and was working himself slowly through the vegetables.

 

“Man, Scott- this!” Stiles thrusts his plate of cake toward Scott and the Knights’ eyes widen in gluttony as he grabs it from his friend and tastes it gingerly.

 

“Oh my- wow…” Scott deflates in pleasure, his face truly elated.

 

“I want some of that.” Lydia gestures for a try and Stiles steals a piece on his fork and hands it to her, “Mmm- heavenly.” She says swallowing slowly.

 

“Right?” Stiles nods wholeheartedly, stealing back his fork and nibbling on a tart from the trays of food they still have left.

 

\--

 

“Alright, I’m stuffed now.” Lydia says happily.

 

“Royally…” Stiles leans back against the railing of the bed grinning stupidly.

 

Scott scoffs quietly at Stiles and nods to his empty tray before standing and taking all the trays from the bed and returning them to the wheel cart.

 

“OK boys, let’s talk royal politics.” Lydia announces suddenly.

 

“What- no, why?” Stiles whines.

 

“I have questions that only you two can answer. Deaton only dropped by for five minutes you know, enough to drop by my cloak at least.” Lydia says laying a hand on her bright red cloak on the end table.

 

“He’s a busy guy, helping the planning for the battle and all that.” Stiles says, his eyes closed in bliss, hands behind his head.

 

“That’s true.” Scott nods, retaking his seat on the bed, “I’m surprised though, how he _wasn’t_ surprised by Lydia being a banshee.”

 

“Man knows a lot more about stuff than he lets on.” Stiles says easily, a small smile firmly planted on his face.

 

“Yes, we all know how cryptic and enigmatic the emissary can be.” Lydia agrees, “But I still need answers here.”

 

“About politics?” Scott asks confused.

 

“Yes, specifically the pack dynamics of the royal family. I’ve always wondered more about supernatural affairs than human ones, specifically surrounding the forbidden forest and my own nature.” Lydia breathes softly, “However, now that I am staying in the capital for the foreseeable future, I want to know more about how everything operates.”

 

“Alright alright, fine.” Stiles opens his eyes but makes no attempts to move otherwise, “ _What_ about the pack?”

 

Lydia leans back against the headboard to think; knowing Stiles has yet to take offense to anything she’s ever asked him, she decides to ask what she really wants to know.

 

“Why isn’t Derek’s pack a part of the Hale pack?”

 

“Uh- shouldn’t Scott answer that?”

 

“You’ve known Derek longer, and more intimately.” Lydia smirks.

 

“Yuck…” Scott winces.

 

“That’s true, I do know him better. Alright, basically it’s all political bull. Derek’s pack can’t officially become part of the royal pack because they aren’t royals. The only way they could become a part of it officially is if one of them marries a Hale.”

 

Lydia quirks a brow, “That’s it? Wouldn’t only _that_ pack member be a part of the Hale pack then?”

 

“No, actually the entire pack would rise with the marriage joining the royals officially. They would become nobles as well earning a place in the capital; it’d be a sign of respect, like bonus points for the marriage of their packmate.”

 

“They’d rise anyway, just with one marriage?”

 

“That’s right, it’s weird, but it works. The Hale’s didn’t actually make up all the rules, the nobles and their advisors actually told them it would be ridiculous and wrong or whatever to allow anyone to join the royal family by way of pack, so the Hale’s said that as long as a packmate marries a Hale, their entire pack become part of the Hale pack.” Stiles finishes winded, “Ugh, so makes sense now I hope? A little?”

 

“Yes I understand it now.” Lydia nods, _of course that does beg the question…_

 

“What is it?” Scott asks curiously noticing Lydia’s contemplative expression.

 

“Well, I do wonder why no one has done just that; married a Hale to rise the pack to a higher status?”

 

“That’s an easy one; no one is available. Derek is with me, so he’s off limits to everyone else, then Erica and Boyd are mated, Isaac is with Allison and so is Scott, so they’re off the table too.”

 

“Stiles!”

 

“What, come on she already knows man, like, _everyone_ knows. I’m pretty sure even Mr. Argent knows by now.”

 

“What- do you really think he does?”

 

“Pretty sure Allison asked him permission to court you and Isaac, so he _has_ to know.”

 

“Allison told me herself that she asked him.” Lydia agrees.

 

“Oh- well that explains why he’s been staring at me so much lately.” Scott admits.

 

“Now, Stiles, if that’s true why aren’t you marrying Derek to ascend the pack?” Lydia asks curiously.

 

“What- because I’m shoe in for royal emissary, so technically I’m going to be Laura’s emissary not Derek’s.” Stiles says simply, obviously confused.

 

“Yes, but Derek is part of the Royal Hale pack right? Which means you would be his emissary as well as Laura and Cora’s; even the Queen Mother would call you her emissary after Deaton retires and you take his place.”

 

“Yeah I guess.” Stiles says, his eyebrow raised.

 

“Right now you’re tied to Derek’s pack, both as his mate and the pack emissary; once Deaton retires you’re the _Hale_ emissary, still Derek’s emissary technically speaking, then, you marry Derek, and his pack rises with that marriage as part of the Hale pack.”

 

“But- wait?” Stiles leans forward and stares at the ceiling, “That might actually be right.”

 

Lydia sits back smirking, _of course it’s right_.

 

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

 

“Because you’re not as smart as me.” Lydia replies easily.

 

“I walked right into that one.” Stiles frowns.

 

“So, you marry Derek and we’re part of the Hale pack?” Scott asks suddenly.

 

“That’s putting it as simply as possible, but yes.” Stiles answers.

 

“Alright.” Lydia says leaning forward to grab Stiles hand, “When’s the wedding?”

 

\----

 

Deaton walks down the hall alongside his personal guard; wondering again why he did not tell the queen he would be fine inside the castle walls by himself. She was being cautious of course, but Deaton did have to wonder why, why _now_ , specifically.

 

He bows his head slightly letting the thoughts exit his mind for now; he has larger concerns at the moment. The group of people reportedly escorted by Emissary Blake, Captain Argent, General Argent, Lieutenant Lahey and Second Lieutenant Mahealani were waiting in The Throne Room and he had been asked to join the meeting.

 

\--

 

“Deaton, good you’re here.” Laura says easily from her throne, her voice sounding around the entire room, clear and stern, “We can get started then.”

 

She gestures to Emissary Blake and she walks forward away from the crowd to stand in line with the royal hunters.

 

“I am Emissary Blake of Ashley, or what once was Ashley.”

 

“What happened there?” Laura asks, concerned.

 

“The wolf attacked the town while I was in the forest gathering herbs. He killed a guard and used his torch to set fire to the town; the remaining two guardsmen stayed behind to fend off the wolf while the townspeople that survived the fire escaped into the forest. A few townspeople were trapped in their homes- they did not make it out of the blaze."

 

"And the guards that stayed behind?"

 

"Killed by the wolf Your Majesty." Emissary Blake answers with a sympathetic frown. 

 

"I see. However I am a little confused- why is it that the wolf did not attack my hunters if it was his plan to lead them there?” Laura asks the hall.

 

“Your Majesty,” General Argent lets his voice sound out to gain the Queens attention, “We believe the wolf has taken a young man that was visiting the town at the time of the attack; I imagine he sought to use him as leverage against us when we went searching for him.”

 

“I see, and what of the young man, do we know anything about him?”

 

“I’m afraid not Your Majesty, he was simply a traveler to the town, a drifter there to resupply. He was on his way out of town when the wolf attacked.” Lady Blake answers.

 

“Then we don’t know what’s become of the man.” Laura says stiffly.

 

Deaton steps forward to stand next to the Emissary Blake and she allows him to take position beside her.

 

“Deaton, how are the preparations for the coming battle going?” The Queen asks.

 

“The poisons and cures are prepared; Emissary Stiles and I are fully energized and ready for when the time comes.”

 

“Understood.” Laura takes a breath and resituates her position on her throne, “We have allowed an innocent bystander to be taken by the wolf, lives were lost and brave men sacrificed; however we must not despair, their deaths will not be in vain. The survivors of Ashley are welcome in the capital, you are all welcome to take refuge in the capital for as long as you need; Emissary Blake I imagine you will take it upon yourself to protect these people yourself, but allow us to provide armed guard to escort you to your temporary housing until we can find something better suited for everyone.” Laura gestures to the guards and they help the refugees carry their elderly and young children to the doors.

 

“I appreciate your help Your Majesty, we are in your debt.” Blake smiles at the Queen and nods to the hunters and Deaton before following the other refugees out.

 

“Now, the plan of action. As much as it pains me to say, our first concern is Peter and the capital not the man who was taken; however, I expect those involved in the battle to save the man if he is present. Peter is the main priority here, but that innocent man should not come to harm either. Is that understood?” Everyone nods compliantly,“Good. Now Derek will be the alpha in charge of the attack as you all known, and I expect you to follow his every order. You all know what you must do, what the objective is and especially the risks. We are counting on the creature not to know of Deaton’s cure nor his plan to destroy him, but we cannot assume he isn’t clever enough to figure out what we’re going to do, so stay vigilant.” Laura breathes, “Remember, we know of the wolf’s ferocity and his intent; he seeks battle with us, and he will get just that. Prepare yourselves for tomorrow, you have this night only to rest and ready yourselves for the battle. Dismissed.” Laura commands.

 

\--

 

“Deaton!” Kira yips happily jumping from her chair and rushing to hug him.

 

“Yes Kira, calm down. It’s only been hours since I saw you last.” Deaton smiles at the young fox, seeing the coyote is lounging across the bed.

 

“I will not be able to spend too much time with the two of you; I must tend to preparations for the battle and check on Stiles’ as well before I can rest.”

 

“You just came to check on us then?” Malia asks flatly.

 

“I did, yes, I wanted to tell you that the battle with the wolf is tomorrow so you will not see me until it is over.”

 

“You’re not here to say goodbye are you? I mean you’re going to win!” Kira says assumingly.

 

“Oh yes, I am sure we will be fine, however I want you both to know you are very special to me; equally so. It’s been a wonderful experience meeting and living with you both for so long, a true joy to know you both.” Deaton says softly.

 

“Don’t talk like that, you’re going to win, I know it. You’ll see us tomorrow when you get back and we’ll all go to the forest after.” Kira says, her voice demanding.

 

“Yeah, we will.” Malia says simply.

 

Deaton smiles at them both and allows Kira to hug him once more before exiting their chambers. Having dismissed his guard, the sound of his shoes padding along the stone floor and his soft breathing are his only audible comforts as he returns to his room.

 

He is unsure if it will all go as well as the girls believe, but he knows he and the others are as prepared as they can be. Only time would tell if it was enough to stop the wolf.

 

\--

 

Deaton wakes in the middle of the night to a cold chill; and he hears a screeching in the air outside his windows. He tosses his layers of blankets off of him and rushes with a candle to the window; nothing is visible in the blackness of the forest to the right, beyond the walls of the capital. He’s about to return to bed when he sees something leaping from the forest tree line; he sees no distinctive signs of the wolf other than its speed. From this distance it’s nothing but a black blur of movement against the melting snow of the land between the forest and the wall.

 

The creature halts before the wall and stands waiting for something; at first Deaton assumes it’s estimating the height of the wall readying to scale it, but it instead turns away and heads back to the edges of the forest to disappear again into its shadows. 

 

Deaton tells the guard down the corridor what he’s witnessed and alerts the archers to keep an eye out for the creature. He’s unsure what to make of it, though he knows the creature can’t be the wolf; it would be sleeping now preparing for the battle, not rushing to the capital to attack. It would be suicide, and Deaton knows the creature is cunning enough to know he has a better chance of surviving the fight inside his own forest.

 

_So what was it?_

 

Deaton scans the forests edges once more before retreating to his bed; putting down the candle and covering himself with warm blankets. He rests his head on the pillows, thoughts of an unknowable danger lurking in his mind; he shuts away his dark thoughts and drifts to sleep.

 

\----

 

_What now?_

 

The creature paces the forest line wondering what to do; he can’t simply scale the wall the archers would see him. Besides that, he’s fairly sure the place is warded, though he’s amazed by the barrier’s size; he knows logically he cannot pass it.

 

“What do I do!” The creature hisses at himself.

 

“Who’s out there?” A voice yells from near the wall.

 

The creature can see fire, torches lit nearby, moving toward him. His heart begins to race as he pushes himself into the base of a nearby tree.  _They're searching for me._ He must decide, he must shift back and let them meet him; they can’t know what he is, he can’t let them see him for what he truly is.

 

The creature allows his tail to fall away, shedding it like a dead limb; he picks it up and grits his teeth, knowing what he must do. He devours the slimy meat of his own dismembered tail and wipes his bloody mouth, grabbing dirt from the ground to smear his body with. He has to cover the blood of the wolf he’d fought off earlier; the beast he’d paralyzed would surely be angry with him, but he’d come so far from the creature’s den, surely he’d be safe at such a distance.

 

He allowed his dark pale green scales retreat into his skin, his claws retract and his eyes flick back to their normal shade of blue; his brown hair fluffs up from under the scale cap of his inhuman skin that had hidden it away. His fangs return to teeth and his body arches and contorts and he falls to the ground gritting his teeth and swallowing the screams crawling up his throat. His writhes on the ground for a second before pushing himself onto all fours and gripping the ground in pain; he huffs out a ragged breath and sucks in air, gritting his human teeth before he allows his bones to retract; his elongated spine returning to human proportions. He wipes his hands through the dirt several times; making sure his paralyzing venom is wiped away in the soil; he couldn’t leave any trace of his true nature for them to find.

 

The guardsmen wave their torches past his position and he knows he has no time left; he hopes he’s ready to reveal himself. He could do nothing about the state of his nakedness, but he could always tell the guards he was attacked by the wolf; it was the truth after all. He takes a deep breath and steps out from behind the trunks of trees, and the guards gasp in shock and some yell for him to stay where he is.

 

“Can’t you see he’s unarmed!?” Says a guard, clearly irritated by the other men's actions.

 

The creature can see four guards total and he wonders if he could take them if things go south; how far would he get?

 

“Sorry sir.” The guard apologizes, “Give me your cloak Haigh, it’s still freezing out here and he’s probably terrified and hurt.”

 

The guard relinquishes his cloak to the leader of the group and takes a careful step toward the creature.

 

“I won’t hurt you, we just want to help. Let’s get you to the castle, maybe some food and water, and you can tell us what happened?” The guard seems kind and genuine in his words, and the creature steps forward shaking visibly from the cold that’s just now registering in him.

 

The creature allows the man to cover him with the cloak and offers a quiet thank you in return.

 

“There you go sir, now, I’m Jordan Parrish, what’s your name?”

 

“I- I’m…” The creature stills against the man’s kindness, the warmth in his eyes as he helps the creature to the center of the group, “My name is Jackson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy moments, battle plans, food porn and a character reveal all in one chapter! Enjoy, comments and kudos are forever appreciated.


	10. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everything will go exactly as we planned. Peter will be saved and the creature destroyed.” The Crown Prince says flatly from behind them, he sounds so sure, Allison can’t help but feel better about the fight ahead of them.

The wolf follows them to the capital with its impossibly high walls and its invisible barrier; he can’t enter, he wouldn’t be able to grab his queen or any substitutes for leverage against the hunters.

 

The wolf growls lowly waiting for the humans and hunters to disappear behind the gates before he leaps away and retreats into his kingdom; he had to prepare for battle, he had to be ready to kill them all. Those other puny humans were lucky he didn’t kill them, but now he had to get his paws bloody once more. His fur bristled in delight. He sat stock still grinning in pleasure in his den, imagining the screams, the yelling, and the cries for mercy in battle. The blood rushes to his ears, his heart thumping harshly under his ribs; he was ready for them, he was ready to destroy them.  

 

He was sure the hunters and other wolves would be no match for him, but the druid would be a problem. He only had to stay away from him; his magic would be easy enough to tell from the others, and he could stay moving constantly and never stopping. The druid would not be able to stop him if he could not target him; and after he wiped out every hunter he simply had to run from the druid. That or find a way to defeat him once and for all.

 

The wolf’s blood tingles, his veins bulging; he is ready to kill, ready to feast on their chewy hearts; human heart would be a delicacy compared to what he usually had to feed on, and it was one he'd missed dearly.

 

\----

 

“Are the horses prepped?” Prince Derek asks as Allison enters the hall.

 

“Yes Alpha.” Isaac replies easily, situating his bow across his back.

 

“Argent.” Derek looks to Allison expectantly.

 

“The other hunters are ready when you are.”

 

Isaac hazards one of his crooked smiles in her direction and she waits until The Prince turns his back to return it; Scott enters soon after, Stiles in tow.

 

“Hey, Allison.” Stiles says as if their old friends.

 

“Scribe Stiles.”

 

“No just, Stiles, seriously, you’re courting my best friend OK it’s just Stiles to you now.” He replies easily tossing his head back.

 

“How is Lydia?” Allison says stepping toward the men cautiously.

 

“Oh she’s great!” Scott answers smiling brightly, and Allison can’t help herself from cracking into a lighter expression.

 

“That’s a relief. Our visit last night was very brief, so I wanted to make sure she was doing alright.”

 

“She said she can’t wait until we save Peter- which was odd.”

 

“Odd?” Allison furrows her brows at Scott.

 

“She said it in a particular way, not like she was excited- more, determined, which usually means she has an agenda.” Stiles answers curiously.

 

“Well, I guess we can’t really know what she’s planning until the fight is over. Hopefully there won’t be any losses today, and everything goes smoothly.” Allison replies.

 

“Everything will go exactly as we planned. Peter will be saved and the creature destroyed.” The Crown Prince says flatly from behind them, he sounds so sure, Allison can’t help but feel better about the fight ahead of them, “Stiles, your riding with Deaton in the back of the group, me and my pack are at the head, hunters in the middle. Relay it to the others and get to the stables.” The Alpha commands.

 

“Yes fearless leader!” Stiles says loudly, before walking over to Prince Derek’s glaring face and taking it in his hands, “We might die today you know.”

 

“No we won’t.” He replies stiffly.

 

“Oh shut up, I was trying to be dramatic.”

 

“Stiles-“

 

“Seriously, shush.” Stiles leans in and takes Prince Derek’s mouth under his; Allison can see him turn his head to deepen the kiss, his hands coming up around Stiles’ lean body to pull him closer.

 

She hears someone say something, but she’s too enthralled in the passionate display before her to care; then suddenly she’s pulled away from the room and she turns to see who stole her from the moment.

 

“We should give them a moment, don’t you think?” Scott says quietly, not meeting her eyes.

 

“Well yes- I just-," She stops suddenly noticing how quiet he is, "What is it Scott?” Allison says, concern taking the place of awe.

 

“It’s just- I know Derek and Stiles and even the Queen are so sure everything is going to go fine, and we’re all going to come back, but I-“

 

“You’re having doubts?”

 

“Yes. I know what the pack is capable of, how skilled the hunters are and how wise and powerful the emissaries are, but- the wolf is so strong, so fast and vicious. He wants to kill us- I can almost feel his bloodlust.” He stares at his open palms between them, a look of fear on his handsome face.

 

Allison takes his hands in hers and pushes her forehead to the top of his bowed head, close enough now to breathe his air, to feel his breathe sweep over her hands.

 

“Scott, we’re all coming back. I know it. You’re an amazing fighter, fast and strong, so courageous and smart. As long as we all do our very best, I know we’ll make it home.”

 

“Hey.” Isaac interrupts the two of them with his soft voice, Allison looks up to see him concerned and gestures for him to join them.

 

“Scott is feeling a little doubtful of our success today.” Allison tells him quietly, pulling her head from Scott’s and letting Isaac wrap an arm around her shoulders; he does the same for Scott, and leans his head into his.

 

Allison smiles as the boys whisper to each other, Isaac giving him the kind of encouragement he needs to hear, the kind that Allison couldn’t provide.  She remembers how Isaac fancied Scott before her, and how long they’ve known each other; she feels no more doubt about their threesome now, knowing they are all _right_ for each other.

 

Isaac rubs a thumb along Allison’s neck before his warm hands leave her to reach for Scott’s jaw; he pulls his head up to meet his slowly whispering sweet nothings to him and leaning in for a soft kiss. Scott’s hand grips Allison’s and she pushes herself into the touch watching the lovers pull from their kiss. Isaac then reaches for Allison and pulls her face to him, letting her lick her lips before locking onto them with his eyes. His kiss is soft and warm; she can taste Scott on him and it’s perfect.

 

Scott pushes into her letting go of her hand to wrap an arm around her waist and grip her uniform at the small of her back; he kisses her neck hotly, desperation on his lips, he flicks his tongue along her clavicle and she moans quietly. Isaacs tongue penetrates her mouth, rushing her with passion she moans again louder this time, unable to control the volume of her pleasure.

 

Scott pulls away slowly, and Isaac gives her one last deep kiss before doing the same; she must look a hot mess, but the boys lean into each other’s shoulders and stare at her lovingly.

 

“Why did you- “

 

“Our mission Allison?” Isaac smirks haughtily.

 

“Oh- you’re both devils you know that?” Allison says shaking her head and smiling at them both.

 

They grin simultaneously and Isaac delivers a chaste kiss to Scott’s lips before pulling from the trio and sauntering down the hall; he turns walking backwards to face them a haughty smile playing across his lips.

 

“Come on, Derek will be pissed if we don’t hurry up.”

 

“Right, we still have to tell everyone about the riding positions.” Scott says taking on a serious tone.

 

Allison nods at Scott and they jog after Isaac, keeping pace together; the three of them holding hands as they race to the armory.

 

\----

 

“Deaton!” Stiles rushes into the room, his face abnormally red, he scratches his cheek roughly, “Hey, sorry I’m kind of late- uh, _things_ needed doing.” He smirks at Derek who walks in silently behind him.

 

Derek slaps Stiles ass playfully before walking off without a word and Stiles just gapes at his back.

 

“You two are doing well I see.” Deaton says avoiding looking at either of them further.

 

“Oh yeah.” Stiles sighs, “Uh- right should be prepping.”

 

“Yes you should.” Deaton replies flatly, “You have everything I assume?”

 

“Yes, totally prepared, did that last night. Among other things-,” Stiles starts digging through his bag, “anyway, the mountain ash arrows, a few filled with mistletoe in case he needs a little more to keep him down. I’m going to hand those to Argent when we see him next; and the uh- herbs I was supposed to ingest for my magic I did that last night, and as you suggested I brought some backups in case I need to power up in the fight.” Stiles looks up closing his bag to stare at Deaton happily.

 

“Good. You certainly seem excited today.” Deaton says.

 

“Oh yeah- I haven’t been able to really show off my powers yet and I am so done with training- “ Deaton quirks his head, “I mean not _ever_ done training, ever- but I want to test myself and this seems like the perfect opportunity. I’ve had soooo much training, so much, and I’m ready. I know I am.” Stiles nods seriously.

 

“I agree.” Deaton says, earning a grin from his young protégé, “However, you know how dangerous your powers can be, how unstable, you must keep a level head during the fight. You cannot forget, not for a second.”

 

“I know, I know, _dearga_ like me are incredibly unstable when not properly trained- but I have been, by you, and you know how well I’ve done with it all.” Stiles flails lightly during his defense.

 

“Yes, I just wanted to make sure _you_ remembered Stiles.” Deaton smiles calmly, “You tend to get overly excited in these situations, and I realize your simply attempting to spread your proverbial wings and prove yourself, but I am more concerned with yours and everyone else’s safety. I- _we_ all need you to survive this battle.”

 

“Mar gheall ar dearga, cosúil liomsa, bhfuil éagobhsaí?” Stiles speaks the Celtic tongue as fluently as Deaton, and he can’t help but smile at his charge's progress.

 

“Aon Stiles, it is because you are going to succeed me,” Deaton turns to tie up his satchel, “once this battle is over and Peter is returned home I will retire.” He turns back to Stiles’ surprised expression, “You are ready. I already knew that, but I needed to know that you knew it. Today, your victory will show me if you truly are prepared to take over as the Hale emissary.”

 

“I- I had no idea my final test- thing-trial whatever would happen today!” Stiles screeches, “I’m sorry I- just I’m so- “ He rushes forward to hug Deaton tightly instead of speaking, “Thank you, Máistir.”

 

Deaton smiles as he reaches his free hand around Stiles back, returning the embrace, “Your welcome Mo Na ndaltaí.”

 

\--

 

Allison, Isaac and Scott all enter the room, hands all gripping each others; they smile shyly at Deaton before Allison nods to the boys and releases her hand from Scott. The two wolves walk toward their Alpha and help to gather the rest of their equipment before leaving the room with him.

 

“I’ve been told to relay a message to all the combatants; you two will be riding in the back of the squad, behind the hunters and wolves.”

 

“And once we’re in the forest?” Stiles asks pulling his satchel over his shoulder sloppily.

 

“Alpha Derek will relay the rest of our positions on the way I believe, then we will remain silent as we enter the forest.” Allison replies curtly.

 

“We understand, thank you Allison.” Deaton says kindly.

 

“Of course.” She smiles.

 

“Alright, time to get this show on the road!” Stiles cheers, and Allison winces at his tone, “Sorry- I’m just excited, sorry.”

 

“That’s alright Stiles. Truthfully, I am excited too.”

 

“Really?” The huntress nods to Stiles, “Great, then you and I are buddies today, seriously I will stick to you for the fight, protect you, you protect me it’ll be great.” The boy throws his arm over her shoulder and Allison smiles as he rambles on.

 

Deaton follows the young warriors as they exit the armory; Allison laughing at Stiles’ ridiculous notions of battle, his exaggerations of the wolf and Deaton can feel the dread that’s been shadowing his heart since the night before, finally lifting.

 

They might just survive this.

 

\----

 

Allison laughs heartily as they enter the main hall, finding the rest of Derek’s pack waiting; she slinks away from Stiles arms and smiles at him before gesturing to the pack.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be here waiting for you partner.” He smirks.

 

She knows he’s trying to get closer to her in light of Allison and Scott’s courtship, but she can’t help the warm feeling it gives her, to feel like she’s part of the old friend’s duo. Stiles seemed fairly serious about them watching each other’s backs during the battle, and she’d protect him as she would Scott or Isaac; with her life, all of her soul and nothing less.

 

Allison nods to Stiles’ turned back, a gesture to herself more than anything, then she turns to walk the rest of the distance to meet Boyd and Reyes.

 

“Hey, the huntress is here!” Reyes says happily, her grin absolutely feral as she pulls Allison into an embrace.

 

“Uh- “ Allison is utterly shocked by the hug, wondering why Reyes is being so friendly all of a sudden.

 

“Excuse her, she’s trying to make up for all the times she was rude or vulgar around you.” Boyd says tonelessly.

 

“Hey!” Reyes glares at her mate before letting Allison go, “I’m just trying to be more friendly, that’s all. You know damn well I never apologize for that other stuff. It’s who I am, I shouldn’t have to apologize for being _me_.” Reyes says smiling haughtily.  

 

“Um- thank you, for being so friendly Reyes; to be honest I thought you didn’t like me.” Allison responds tentatively.

 

“Well, to be honest- I didn’t.” She snorts, “But, Isaac and Scott are so obsessed with you, I figured I should see what all the fuss was about. So! Expect a lot more niceness from me. Oh, and call me Erica.”

 

“What Erica means is, expect a lot more staring and invasion of personal space from her.” Boyd says, a smirk the likes Allison has never seen planted at the corner of his mouth.

 

“Oh- uh, well as long as we can get to know each other better, it’s fine. Stiles started doing the same thing just today actually.”

 

“Really? That little- he always has to be the first one to everything.” Erica says glaring at the back of Stiles head from across the room.

 

“Um, did Alpha Derek tell you guys about the riding positions?” Allison asks Boyd.

 

“Yeah, he told us earlier this morning.” Boyd remarks offhandedly.

 

“Great, then I’m off to prep myself for battle. See you both outside.” Allison says easily and she can feel Erica grab at her arm, “Wha- ?”

 

“Hey, you uh- if you get into trouble at all, or just need some back up for any reason, find me alright?” Erica says seriously, giving Allison the softest expression she’s ever seen on the vixen.

 

“Oh- I will, I promise.” Allison smiles back and Erica nods, letting her grip turn into a light slap to Allison’s shoulder.

 

Allison walks back toward Stiles’ and Deaton, taking her time getting across the massive hall to meet them.

 

She can’t help but feel more secure in her life today than she ever has before; she had her father and Lydia all her life, but now, now she has so many people watching her back, making sure she’s safe and cared for.

 

She’s a warrior, and has always been trained for single combat, to rely above all on herself and her own skills; but now, she can finally rely on others and she feels that for once, she might be in better hands than her own.

 

Stiles turns in time to see her meeting the two emissaries and smiles genuinely, bright and friendly; he tells her they’re ready to head to the stables and she follows him and Deaton out, trailed closely by Boyd and Erica.

 

She’d survive, she always knew that, but now she’s sure everyone else will too.

 

\--

 

“It’s time, mount up!” Lieutenant General Derek yells over the hooves of their horses and the quiet discussions between soldiers.

 

Allison sees they aren’t alone; the queen has sent four guards along with them, including a young new commander her father told her about, Parrish she believed his name was.

 

Two guards were equipped with heavy armor, two in light with corresponding weapons; Parrish told his men to mount up and they all did as they were told. She caught the commander’s eyes and he nodded kindly to her a small smile on his lips; she nodded back, noting then how confident he was. The royal guards would only aid them in their mission; but Allison did wonder how much of the mission’s details they actually knew.

 

\--

 

Alpha Hale rode front center, his pack; Erica, Boyd, Scott and Lahey all rode in two by two formations on either side of him. Allison’s father rode to the right of her, Mahealani to her left, and the emissaries rode in back with the royal guard riding one on either side of them and two directly behind.

 

A strategic and well coordinated squad; they rode full speed no stops all the way to the great forest.

 

\--

 

As they neared the edges of the woods, Alpha Derek raised a fist in the air and all riders slowed to a stop behind him, pulling to the edges of the main road. Latching their horses to whatever trees or shrubs they could, all riders dismounted and began crowding around the Royal Alpha.

 

“Listen well. Wolves will lead this attack, close quarters but far enough from the wolf to allow our archers to shoot. Hunters will remain ranged at all times, Isaac being the only exception as he is both wolf and hunter.” Isaac nods to his Alpha, “Close ranged fighting will provide a distraction to our main objective, curing Peter; General Argent will use our battle to find a ranged position so he can pierce the beast with the poison provided for us by the emissaries. Once he is down, everyone backs off immediately allowing Argent to shoot the cure into Peter. Royal guards will remain on the exterior of the battle providing support and more importantly, making sure the wolf has no retreat.”

 

The Alpha makes every soldier look him in the eyes, demanding their understanding of his plan; in that moment Allison is sure the plan was entirely his and not the Queens. He is a fine general, a great leader and it wasn’t until now that Allison understood the faith his wolves had in him.

 

“Everyone understands our mission here, what’s at stake, now stay your words once inside the forest; and fan out once you see the wolf. Attack on my signal, but remember, you are not to kill him!” Alpha Hale yells out over the group, “You are only to injure and distract, is that understood?”

 

“Yes, General, Sir.” Everyone says together, ready for the battle they equip their blades, claws and bows and follow the Alpha into the dark forest.

 

\----

 

 _Here they come_ , but the wolf is ready for them now, he knows he must kill them all, that he’ll be outnumbered but never outmatched. The druid will not stop him, he will never be taken alive; he will never be separated from this perfect host. He cannot be alone again, never again.

 

**_You will die today wolf, they do not come to save me, they come to kill you._ **

****

_You are useless and feeble and your words do not mean anything. You are weak and scared, because you know I will win._

**_Even if you do, I will find a way to end our life together. No matter what you do, I will destroy you in the end._ **

 

The wolf grins ferociously, _Is that so? We will see little prince, we will see._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Dearga/an dearga = crimson/a crimson or red/ a red  
> Mar gheall ar dearga, cosúil liomsa, bhfuil éagobhsaí ? = Because crimson, like me, are unstable?  
> Aon = No  
> Máistir = Master  
> Mo Na ndaltaí = My Student


	11. Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His saliva burned in his mouth, his blood boiled in excitement; he howls in delight as he races to the middle of his kingdom, the largest clearing, the greatest battle ground. It was time, they were coming now, he knew how they'd act, unsure how to defeat him; they would be hesitant to tear him apart and he would use it to his advantage. 
> 
> It doesn't matter how they've prepared, the wolf will be victorious, not them. He would win, and they would die. That’s how it had to be.

The wolf runs through the wood, to meet them, the hunters and their blades, the archers and their bows; he would kill them destroy them and eat all their hearts. He would own this land, take it all for himself and no one would ever hurt him again.

 

His saliva burned in his mouth, his blood boiled in excitement; he howls in delight as he races to the middle of his kingdom, the largest clearing, the greatest battle ground. It was time, they were coming now, he knew how they’d act, unsure how to defeat him; they would be hesitant to tear him apart and he would use it to his advantage.

 

He smelled the Druid now, he was coming to trap the wolf; but never would he allow that, instead he would rip apart his men and women, kill them all then deal with the magic man.

 

The wolf sniffs the air long and hard, but stops suddenly smelling someone familiar; that same scent again, _The Hunter, the red hooded man?_ The wolf sniffs him out, _doesn’t matter…he is nothing to me, though I’m sure he means everything to you, my prisoner._

 

_Nothing to say? Well, that’s fine, I don’t need anything from you other than your silence and obedience. Today is the day of victory for the great and terrible-no, the big bad wolf. My queen, once called me that, and I do so like the sounds of it. After these hunters are dealt with, I must devise a way to enter the capital, to find her once more._

 

The wolf grins heartily as he waits for the warriors to enter the clearing; they stalk in, knowing he would be waiting, but not wanting to bait him too soon. He knew how they operated, knew how it all would go.

 

It doesn’t matter how they’ve prepared, the wolf will be victorious, not them. He would win, and they would die. That’s how it had to be.

 

\----

 

Allison breaths deeply as they enter the clearing, the wolves already in position around the monstrous figure in the center, waiting.

 

She wants to gasp at his sheer size, his deep colored fur, showing as a dark brown under the glow of the sun directly above him, a spotlight of sunshine, the only bright light in the clearing, covers his broad shoulders as he sits back on his haunches.

 

Allison follows her father to the right of the path ready to protect his position from the wolf no matter the cost. No matter what, Peter had to be saved, she knew not only to the Queen but her father as well; they needed Peter alive.

 

She knew now why her father had to be here, why he fought to be the one to cure the Prince; she knew why he had to be the one to do this, and she would do whatever she could to help him.

 

Allison pulls back her bow string, her broad tipped arrows at the ready; the feather of her bow tickles her ear as she adjusts her neck, the string settling tightly over her cheek. She watches from the corner of her eye as the royal guards circle the edges of the clearing, as the Alpha ordered; the wolf would not retreat.

 

Mahealani is across the clearing, her perfect opposite his short sword on his hip and his bow at the ready, aimed straight at the wolf’s body; Isaac is across from her father, nearest Mahealani, his bow drawn and his face expressionless.

 

Her father is silent to her right, only the sound of his crossbow being loaded betrays his existence, but Alpha Hale distracts the wolf with simple words, “We will kill you wolf. It is inevitable.” The Alpha states, his eyes bleeding red as he addresses the beast; the distraction allows Allison’s dad to prepare the poison that would paralyze the wolf.

 

“Is that so?” Allison fights the look of shock on her face as the creature speaks so clearly even past his fangs; having been unaware that wolves had the power to speak in Alpha Form.

 

“Your throat will be in my teeth by the end of this wolf.” Alpha Hale grits out behind his own bared fangs, his claws extended.

 

His face contorts and he’s suddenly a mix between a wolf and a man; a hybrid form Allison has seen on many of his pack, but never on him. She tightens her grip on her bow, ready to fire on the Alpha’s mark, ready for it all to begin.

 

“Enough of this posturing wolf prince _come! T_ ear out my throat if you dare!” The wolf snarls rushing Alpha Hale.

 

The fight erupts, the wolves are everywhere, slashing at the great beast with claws and fangs, howling as he slashes into them, but they are but a distraction, and Allison knows they must all do their part.

 

She waits for an opening before letting loose an arrow at the dark wolf; her arrow spinning through the air, it pierces the wolf’s leg, making him drop to the ground in pain. He howls angrily before ripping the arrow from himself, snarling at Allison he runs in her direction.

 

Allison barely has time to ready her next arrow; but as the wolf leaps toward her she looses another of her strongest arrows, hitting the beast in the shoulder; he falls down the short hill Allison and her father are standing upon and Allison breathes a quick sigh before readying her next arrow in case he tries retaliation again.

 

Scott piles onto the wolf instead, slashing at his legs and arms, never a vital point, but the wolf easily tosses him aside. Erica is next, alongside Boyd, their golden eyes gleaming against the dim light they charge the wolf together boxing him into the hill. Allison has no angle here, but she knows Mahealani and Isaac will, so she looks to her father, awaiting his signal.

 

Allison observes the rest of the clearing wondering if she should change positions when the beta wolves are abruptly thrown into the middle of the clearing; the sun is trapped behind the branches overhead, though it does leak through the middle of the clearing, a bright waterfall of light cascades over the betas and they growl in tandem before launching to their feet and wait for another opening.

 

Alpha Hale is close to the wolf, gripping his claws in the wolf’s forearms, he roars into the wolf's face and the beast groans under the other alphas weight before Alpha Hale topples them both to the ground.

 

Suddenly Allison can hear her father whisper, unsure of what he's said she turns her attention back to the fight; she watches as the Prince is suddenly gone from the wolf, a few feet back he stands glaring at the beast, his claws dripping with blood. The wolf writhes on the ground in pain, and Allison knows it’s because of the other Alpha; his wounds would take longer to heal because of the alpha wolf’s powerful blows.

 

The wolf howls in anger and pain, his blood leaking on the ground is great streams as he struggles to stand on all fours; but the Alpha raises a clawed hand to the clearing, and the archers lower their bows, the wolves stay their ground far from the beast.

 

_It’s time._

 

Her father raises his crossbow beside Allison and all goes silent, other than the still growling wolf; he looks at the other wolves, waiting for their move, not knowing what’s about to happen.

 

Allison’s father’s bow lets loose the bolt - Allison breathes, silently watching as the wolf grabs the bolt in the air just in time, “No.” She whispers.

 

The wolf roars, snapping the bolt in two before launching its bleeding form at her father; he scales the small hill in second and swipes the crossbow from his hands. Allison watches the crossbow break against a tree and to her horror the wolf is on top of her father about to tear out his throat.

 

 ** _“No.”_** The wolf grits out, his claws stopping mid swipe above Chris’ throat.

 

Her father takes the chance to get his knee between the wolf’s body and his, his arm gripping the wolf’s wrists he forces them at the wolf in a crossing motion; the wolf howls in pain as his own claws pierce his biceps in a painful looking position.

 

“Isaac!” Allison’s dad yells, and Allison stands useless at her father’s side knowing she can’t shoot the wolf again in case his injuries are already too severe, but Isaac is prepared.

 

He looses an arrow that whizzes through the clearing and hits the wolf in the back, the tender muscles of his shoulder tense where the arrow is stuck; he roars in pain attempting to pull his claws from his body. He opts instead to lean into Allison’s father before snapping his wicked fangs near his neck, his saliva flying everywhere, his blood pooling around the two of them; soaking the grass, the remaining patches of snow turn pink around them.

 

“Allison!” Her father yells to her.

 

He nods to the tree his crossbow had smashed against and she goes wide-eyed before rushing around the tangle of wolf and man toward her father’s bolts that lay strewn on the ground. She throws aside most of them, rolling her hands over them until she finds the one with the clear tip, with the tan brown soil inside glowing purple around its edges.

 

“Got the bolt!” She spins around, her knees caked in dirt; the wolf is writhing, barely moving now, his red eyes glowing dim.

 

“His back, rip out the arrow!” Her father says gruffly under the weight of the animal.

 

Allison stands over the wolf’s back and pulls out the arrow filled with mountain ash, knowing she must also retrieve the arrowhead from the wolf’s body, she puts her father’s bolt in her mouth and pulls her ring dagger from her belt. She breathes stiffly before thrusting the knife into the wolf; she hears him groan, but the poison is still paralyzing him in pain, and he doesn’t move to stop her.

 

His deep red blood splashes over her hands and she carves into his back; she angles her dagger and feeling it strike against steel, she props her shoulder onto the wolf’s back and feels the arrowhead wrenching itself free from the beast’s bleeding muscles.

 

“Gar-dit!” Allison mumbles around the bolt as she pulls free the arrowhead; dropping it to the ground she pulls the bolt from her mouth, “Got it!”

 

“Step away.” Her father grunts and she does as she’s told, watching as him flip both the wolf and himself over, his knee digging into the wolf’s chest as he sits on top of the paralyzed beast.

 

“The bolt Allison!” He says urgently.

 

“Here!” She hands it to him and her father doesn’t hesitate before stabbing it crudely into the wolf’s chest, inches from his heart.

 

Allison grabs her father’s arm after a moment seeing that he obviously forgot the next part in the heat of the moment; she tears him away from the wolf and he lets her.

 

“Finally, it’s my turn!” Stiles says, and Allison watches as he pulls off his cropped leather jacket, revealing his lean muscled arms featured perfectly by his sleeveless tunic.

 

“Stiles, you know what to do first.” Deaton says calmly, giving Stiles a wide berth as the young emissary stands in the center of the clearing.

 

Allison sees him take a deep breath, his hands at his sides, he parts his legs slightly taking a strong center position under the light of the sun; he bows his head and breathes deeply, once more letting out the air through his mouth.

 

His head snaps up his eyes pure black, they are so disconcerting that Allison focuses instead on his arms which seem to be sprouting spontaneous tattoos; deep black ink circle up and around his arms from his wrists like dark serpents gripping his arms, the ink trails under his short sleeves up the sides of his neck up the sides of his skull to disappear under his messy hair. Stiles raises his arm in front of him, his fingers tensed as though he’s reaching for something; a bright red glow emanates like an aura around his body and he breathes, shuddering visibly.

 

“Teacht anseo.” Stiles says darkly, and Allison doesn’t know what he’s said but she knows he speaks in the magic tongue.

 

Everyone is watching intently as the wolf suddenly glides toward Stiles, as if he was being lifted by an invisible hand; Stiles’ arm follows the wolfs’ exact movements and as he lets his hand move downward toward the ground, the wolf moves with it, coming to rest upon the ground near the Sparks’ feet.

 

“Good.” Deaton relishes.

 

Stiles drops his arm completely, his eyes still fully void, a menacing black shroud over his usually warm whiskey colored eyes; Allison pulls her gaze from his to follow her father as he slides down the short hill. She watches the rest of the squad walk closer to the middle of the clearing, stopping at the edges of the overhead light to watch the emissaries work.

 

Deaton stands at the head of the wolf, Stiles at the creature’s feet; the wolf growls viciously snapping his jaws, his clawed hand swiping the air near Deaton’s chest, missing it by only millimeters. Deaton seems utterly calm, unafraid of the beast, and Stiles is the same; the elder emissary lifts his arm and balls his fist in the air, lifting it an inch or two then slamming it back down to its original position, the wolf moving with him. He holds him there, the wolf paralyzed once more, he nods to Stiles his eyes the brilliant pale purple glow, the same intensity as the day Allison met the druid.

 

Stiles nods back easily and reaches forward to remove the bolt from the wolf’s chest; Allison notices the bolt’s clear tip is now empty, the magic within it has entered the wolf. Stiles throws the empty bolt aside and Allison stares in awe as he raises his arm again, what look like black flames wrap around him and flicker over his arms and back, the flames grow around him and a red glow traces the edges. Stiles stares at the wolf and speaks again in the magic language alongside Deaton.

 

“Imíonn an fhoirm seo, ar leith seo a bheith in dhá.” Together they chant quietly over the wolf’s paralyzed body; their hand pulling back and forth an invisible tide.

 

Abruptly Stiles stops chanting, halting his previous movement with Deaton to say, “Bhac solais, príosún unbreakable.”

 

His arms are raised in as though he’s holding his hands in surrender; Deaton never stops chanting but makes a quick movement as though he is gripping the air against an invisible force, his hands both raised.

 

A strange breeze whips around the emissaries, Stiles’ hair moves harshly with the wind but he remains motionless, still against the air; then a wall of black emerges, like an empty shell of space. Allison realizes it’s a barrier after it becomes transparent, the sun hitting its edges with its light making it shimmer like the surface of still water.

 

Suddenly a black formless smoke is hovering within the barrier; it glistens in the sun as though it’s somehow wet, and Allison gasps along with most of the rest of the clearing as the form is no longer motionless. It’s yelling its voice a strange echo of sound, like no animal or man she’s ever heard; the form beats its fists uselessly against the barrier’s walls.

 

Allison leans forward slightly to observe the creature; it’s the form of a man, made of something akin to the black blood that wolves spit up when they are poisoned. The only parts of the form that are human looking are its torso and up; the head bald and the face basically formless, only the hollows of eyes, a slit for the mouth, it’s throat an empty black and the nose a sharp point on its blank face.

 

Allison hears her father’s sharp intake of breathe next to her and she snaps her head in his direction worried he’s hurt; but he stares instead, his brows raised in concern his eyes wet with held back tears. Allison look in the direction of his eyes and inhales almost as sharply as he did; in the place of the wolf lays a naked man.

 

\--

 

Deaton motions for Alpha Hale and Allison’s father to join him as he crouches over the man, his back to the group. The men take their time reaching him, seemingly in shock; Allison looks to Scott for answers but sees him staring just as confused at the situation as she is.

 

“Peter…” Her father whispers, as he crouches behind the man.

 

“Peter?” Alpha Hale stares, his expression more complex than she’s ever seen it.

 

Suddenly Guard Commander Parrish is walking past her and she sees him removing his cloak; he stands next to Allison’s father who looks up in confusion.

 

“Here, he can have my cloak.” The Commander says gently, and Allison’s father takes it gingerly.

 

Commander Parrish steps away to stand nearer to Allison and she smiles at him before turning her focus back on the crowd of worried men; she watches as her father waves the cloak into the air, letting it glide over Peter’s form. Alpha Hale helps him cover his uncle’s front and Chris takes care of his back, making sure his form in covered in the deep purple cloak.

 

“Peter should wake later; I’ve given him something to help him sleep.” He says to the two men, and Alpha Hale puts a hand on the druid’s shoulder, squeezing it firmly before letting his hand fall away.

 

“Deaton.” Stiles says abruptly from the other side of the barrier, “We need to finish.”

 

“Yes. This creature cannot be allowed to live; not only for his past crimes, but for his future. Such parasites were meant to be destroyed many centuries ago, and we must finish that extinction.” Deaton says stiffly as he stands opposite Stiles outside the barrier.

 

The creature’s screams become louder, its screeches of fear as useless as before, it still fights to free itself from the barrier.

 

Deaton raises his hands alongside Stiles, both emissaries preparing for the finale; Stiles tattoos flare in light enough to blind the group for a few seconds, before they dull to a steady glow. Allison can see teases of purple light under Deaton’s long sleeves; signifying his tattoos are most likely as bright as Stiles’. The men raise their arms directly in front of themselves, plant their left legs in the soil and ball their fists.

 

“Ar leith, a bheith formless uair amháin níos mó, ach cáithníní san aer, a bheith mar rud ar bith, a bheith níos mó .” They chant together.

 

Suddenly the creature speaks, over their chanting it yells, “How! How did you hide him from me?! How did you win?! He’s a trick,” It yells at Stiles, “this is wrong, you cheated!”

 

The black form howls in fear as the emissaries chant becomes louder, their bodies pulling their tightened fists away from them; they lean back together, both emissaries mirroring each other’s movements perfectly. The creature screams louder than he has before, its voice causing the wolves to cover their ears, Allison groans in pain as the forms’ voice pitches higher splitting the air with its intensity.

 

Allison watches as she covers her ears against the resounding noise; she watches as the creature is split apart, its black liquid splashing violently against the barrier’s interior. The emissaries move together again, their hands relaxing, they move their left legs forward to stand straight and still. Their hands move down slowly as they continue the chant; lowering their hands, the creature’s remains fall apart further dissolving in the air of the barrier.

 

Dissolving into nothing.

 

\--

 

Allison breathes out slowly, smiling as Scott and Isaac rush her with a firm embrace.

 

“Oof-“ Allison chuckles softly, as the boys tell her how terrified they both were, “We’re all OK, everyone is alive.” She says softly, stroking her hand up and down Isaac’s back while Scott hugs her side tightly.

 

“Well that was draining.” Stiles breathes nearby, “Hey, can I get in on that group hug?”

 

“Get over here man!” Scott says a laugh in his voice as he ushers Stiles into the hug.

 

“You know we do have a royal to secure right guys?” Boyd says stiffly from somewhere behind Stiles.

 

“Yeah yeah, he’s fine right now OK, Derek’s got him and Deaton says he’s sleeping anyway. We just saved the land Boyd, I think we deserve some cuddle time.” Stiles mumbles, his head shoved into Isaacs’ curls.

 

“Yeah Boyd, let’s join them, I want to be cuddled.” Erica says from behind Stiles and Allison can see her coming from her side, “Allison, I’m gonna invade your personal space now.”

 

“OK.” Allison laughs.

 

\--

 

Someone coughs stiffly to Allison’s right, and she realizes it’s probably her father; it must look pretty crazy from his point of view. Allison is being aggressively cuddled from behind by Erica, both of her boyfriends are at her front and side, and they’re being embraced from behind by Stiles, who is being hugged half heartedly by Boyd and Mahealani.

 

“Alright everyone stop suffocating my daughter.” Her father says flatly, and Allison smiles because he wouldn’t have said that if he was angry.

 

“OK seriously, it’s really hot in here!” Scott yells from under Stiles’ arm.

 

“Kind of smells actually.” Stiles says loudly and everyone just starts laughing and pulling away from the pile.

 

“Wow, that was crazy.” Scott says his brows raised in surprise.

 

Stiles chuckles, “Yes, and it is now going to be a regular thing, we are doing this again people!” Stiles yells at everyone as they flee his grabbing hands.

 

“Stiles?”

 

“Derek!” He rushes over to the Alpha pinning him in place with a painful looking hug, “We moving your Uncle now?” he says to the Prince’s chest.

 

“Yes. Will you- “

 

“Protect you guys on the way back? Of course.” He pulls away from the embrace grinning and Alpha Hale manages a smile.

 

\--

 

The trip back is surprisingly short; the guards at the entrance gates of the capital all yell in excitement announcing to the capital that the hunters and knights have returned victorious. Citizens of the capital, human and otherwise crowd the sides of the main road to the castle, yelling in triumph and cheering for the return of their elder prince.

 

“Prince?” Allison whispers, looking at Alpha Hale’s horse to see Peter slumped in his arms, the cloak from the commander wrapping his naked body tight. His face is covered in stubble, the hair on his head is messy and tangled; _he looks more caveman than prince in his current state._

  
Allison can’t help but wonder what he’d look like clean shaven and dressed; if he’d bear any resemblance to the gorgeous Queen and Princess Cora, if he’d look like his sister the Queen Mother Talia. She was excited to get home, to hear what Peter had to say, what happened to him all those years ago; but most of all she couldn’t wait to tell Lydia the good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Teacht anseo = Come here  
> Imíonn an fhoirm seo, ar leith seo a bheith in dhá = Depart this form, separate this being in two  
> Bhac solais, príosún unbreakable = Barrier of light, unbreakable prison  
> Ar leith, a bheith formless uair amháin níos mó, ach cáithníní san aer, a bheith mar rud ar bith, a bheith níos mó = Separate, become formless once more, but particles in the air, become as nothing, be no more
> 
> The Battle! The epic conclusion to the wolf; don't worry it's not the end of the fic, there are four more chapters after this. This is my first ever battle scene btw, so hopefully it's good, makes sense suspenseful and everything. Enjoy, comments and kudos are so appreciated.


	12. The Hollow Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He raises his head, staring at a stranger in the mirror; a reflection of a man who disappeared long ago behind gleaming red eyes and sharp fangs. He didn't recognize the man staring back at him, but he could see himself in his eyes; the loss of his nieces and nephew in a horrible fire, the love he lost over a family feud, the pain he endured trapped for years in his own body only to watch a darker version of himself rip apart the innocent.
> 
>    
> “There’s no going back.”

He raises his head, staring at a stranger in the mirror; a reflection of a man who disappeared long ago behind gleaming red eyes and sharp fangs. He didn’t recognize the man staring back at him, but he could see himself in his eyes; the loss of his nieces and nephew in a horrible fire, the love he lost over a family feud, the pain he endured trapped for years in his own body only to watch a darker version of himself rip apart innocent kids. 

 

“There’s no going back.” He mumbles, splashing cold water over his cleanly shaven jaw.

 

He rubs a rough hand over his face, taking another look at the shadow of his former self staring back at him. His hair is shorter now, cut short on the sides with tufts on the top and staring at his cleaner appearance he almost laughs at the memory of his former self, knowing that that version of him would be disgusted by his appearance. He always loved looking his best, for beauty’s sake; after he met _him_ however, he wanted to always _be_ his best. After Adalia passed away, after his mate gave him her alpha spark, he hid away; his snarky demeanor became a mask, a way to disguise his pain.

 

He lost himself in her death, but regained happiness through his family; his sister Talia was his solidity, a planet to gravitate around. She was always his center, the one person he could completely rely on, and after the family’s  losses during the battle of Hattil, they all needed each other more than ever. He sought peace and a sense of belonging through Talia’s children; helping Laura with her recently attained alphahood and Cora with her taste in fashion and lack of self confidence. Derek needed the most work, mostly in finding himself; his greatest skills were always physical, but Peter helped him to find his intellectual side. He was always smarter than he knew, and Peter brought out his cunning mind for strategy and love for great literature.

 

He was happy with his life again; and happier still when the Argents arrived to broker peace between the families. Pack and Clan, ancient and aristocratic both; they were like two sides of a single coin.

 

Peter thought much of the heads of the family, and as Laura’s designated advisor Peter made sure to know everything he could about them. Gerard, the head of the family after his son Christophe’s wife had passed two years prior; he was strong, cunning, meticulous, arrogant, greedy and self-important. Rumors had graced Peter’s perceptive ears about a plot that Gerard had devised to have the late Victoria Argent murdered so he could take back the head seat of the great Argent clan; though it could never be proven.

 

Katherine, Gerard’s youngest child had been groomed from an early age to take over the family; however she never did. Peter knew of her reputation, her skills in seduction and manipulation were legendary, and he always assumed she received that training from her father, which explained to him why it was she never took her rightful place as the Argent’s leader. Obviously, her father was far too comfortable at the top and had manipulated his daughter into believing his leadership was best, even over her right to lead the clan. Instead of leading, she had remained her father's loyal and ruthless right hand.

 

Christophe, the eldest child of the great and terrible Gerard; always a soldier never a leader in his family, he was the strongest and most strategic of them all. Peter had heard about his vast knowledge of the supernatural and even the Aos Sí, and he could admit how much it intrigued him, having a fascination in the areas himself.

 

He had never met Christophe before the day Gerard decided to arrange a union between the Hales and the Argents; and he was taken immediately by the man. Talia had told him many times the story of her first time meeting Richerd, her late husband; Peter had read the legends of the rarity, but he’d never truly believed not until he laid eyes on him...

 

Peter shakes his head from the memories, “It’s time.” he huffs.

  

He had no further time to reminisce, his old life was gone; he had to brace himself for the birth of a new one, no matter how broken of a future it may seem.

 

\--

 

Peter wanders past the great windows Laura had insisted he open; the chill air of the melting winter forcing a shiver through his rigid body.  A garment made of silk lay before him, draped on the bed ready to be worn; a simple leather belt and boots waited at the edge of the bed and Peter couldn’t help a sign escape his throat as he reached for the clothing.

 

He could barely imagine himself in such fancy clothes anymore; he’d lived like a beast, a true animal in the forest for years. He scoffed at the thought, realizing how much he had always disdained the thought of himself running around like a wild animal. Of course the pack rituals instigated a few fully shifted sprints through the forest once a month under the pale light of the full moon, but he would never willingly live in the forest. Never, especially not alone. Then again, he never was _alone_ in the dark of those woods.

 

\--

 

Peter finishes pulling on his second boot and stands to look at himself in the full length mirror near the window; he breathes heavily as he tightens the belt against his lean new body. He was at least twenty pounds lighter and much more wiry than he’d ever been before; he couldn’t help enjoying the new look, before scoffing again and relaxing his shoulders. He drops his hands to his side and takes a long look at himself; he tries an encouraging smile, but fails miserably, trying instead for a smirk to rival that of his old self. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t him either.

 

“Enough of this…” Peter sighs, remembering just what was in store for him for the day; a huge gathering of his family and their new friends to explain what exactly happened to him, “This is not going to be easy, or enjoyable, for _anyone_.” He says stiffly at himself.

 

Taking a last hopeless look at himself he straightens his back and broadens his shoulders before heading for the door.

 

\--

 

The hallway is empty, surprising considering he was sure Laura would have at least eight guards on him at all times to prevent his escape. Surely she knew him well enough to know he would want nothing to do with the torture she was about to put him through.

 

Peter quirks a brow at the hall, closing his door behind him and taking his time to The Great Hall; he was in no rush to start the painstaking retelling of his trip to the forest.

 

\--

 

“Where is he?”

 

_No. Can’t be, she couldn’t have gotten here so quickly. Oh what am I thinking, of course she could. As if this day couldn’t get any better…_

 

Peter takes a breath before walking into The Great Hall; he relaxes his body and waits for the inevitable hugging or slapping he’s about to endure.

 

“Peter…” Talia says quietly, staring at her brother, her expression pained.

 

As he expected she’s across the room in seconds, but instead of the slap or even punch that he was hoping for, she embraces him instead.

 

“Talia, it’s good to see you.”

 

“Shut up– just let me have a moment alright.” Talia whispers as she nuzzles Peter’s neck in affection.

 

Peter hazards a glance at the rest of the room as he hugs her back; Laura, Cora and Derek are all staring in happiness at the reunion, while Deaton and–

 

“What’s he doing here?” Peter asks tightly staring at the cold blue eyes of the aptly nicknamed, Crimson Hunter.

 

“Peter, he’s here to hear what happened with you.” Laura says, clearly confused by her uncle’s glare.

 

“I don’t– he should know I guess.” Peter says, swallowing his pain for the time being; knowing there are more important things to attend to than his bitterness over his old flame.

 

Talia pulls away from her brother with demanding eyes, “Sit down, tell us everything.”

 

\--

 

Everyone settles into their chairs and stares at Peter; concern, curiosity, pain and some fear all present among them. Christophe is as unreadable as ever, _of course._

“Is this everyone?” Cora asks flatly.

 

“Yes. The events will be heard by us first, and we can relay it to others as needed.” Laura answers evenly.

 

“Peter, whenever you’re ready.” Deaton says calmly.

 

“I assume you have all seen or at the very least heard about the tale of The Hollow Prince?”

 

“Wha– why is this important?” Talia asks tightly.

 

“It is not as old as it seems. In fact, it’s only about three years old; I know, because I carved it.”

 

“I KNEW IT!” A voice yells from the outer hallway door.

 

“Who is that?” Talia asks, “Whoever is there reveal yourself.”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” The boy answers the hall and Peter quirks a brow; his lean muscle, tall standing with broad shoulders, dotted in moles with big whiskey eyes and an impish nose,  _and that mouth…_

 

“Stiles.” Derek says, obviously exasperated.

 

“You mean– I see now.” Talia nods at the boy a strange welcoming expression gracing her strong face.

 

“I’m really sorry– I know, I’m not supposed to be here, but Lydia demanded that I interrupt –“

 

“Lady Lydia is here?” Cora asks abruptly.

 

“Yeah, downstairs – look Queen Mother Talia I didn’t mean to intrude really, but I _totally_ knew it.” Stiles smirks at the room and his eyes land on Peter, “That you, were The Hollow Prince I mean.”

 

“And how did you figure that out?” Peter asks, his face as pleasant as can be.

 

“Oh, well actually,” Stiles says pulling a seat next to Chris and settling in without permission, “It was your name, Hollow. At first I thought it meant the forest that the ‘prince’ was from the forest. But then, I remembered reading the Hale family history – all about the name itself, ‘Hale’; it means nook or hollow in Old English. That made sense because The Hollow Forest was actually named after your family, then ‘the prince’ had to be a Hale right?” Stiles says easily, using his hands to do a lot of the talking.

 

“But– how did you know it was Peter?” Laura asks curiously.

 

“The carving, when I dated it, I could tell that something was off, something magical had interacted with the tree that the carving was– well, carved, into. It was practically impossible to tell when it was drawn after I figure that out.”

 

“But you had a theory.” Peter says knowingly, drawing the boy’s attention, he nods, “And how did you get your hands on the carving exactly?”

 

“That was my doing actually.” Laura answers, “He was my court scribe at the time.”

 

“Not anymore?”

 

“No, I’m actually taking over for Deaton now that he’s retiring.” Stiles answers offhandedly.

 

“You’re an emissary?” Peter says surprised; specifically by the lack of magic in the air around the boy.

 

“Spark actually. I tend to suppress my magic’s scent so people can’t tell.” He gestures to the wolves in the room, “That’s actually how we managed to destroy the parasite.”

 

“You tricked it into believing Deaton was the only magical entity fighting for the court.” Peter remarks.

 

“Yep.”

 

Peter nods, dropping his gaze to the table; now they knew, they would all know what he’d done.

 

“Peter.” Talia draws his attention, “I have seen a copy of the carving, I believe we all have.”

 

“We know what Kate did to you.” Christophe finally speaks.

 

“No, you do not. You have no idea what she’s done.” Peter says, his eyes glaring at a dark stain on the table.

 

“Then tell us.” Talia says softly.

 

“Under Gerard’s orders Kate did many things from what I’ve heard; however I had no idea how horrible her crimes were, not until she told me herself.”

 

“After you two- ?” Stiles asks knowingly.

 

“No. It was after she stabbed me in the heart actually.” Peter says tonelessly, “She gloated as she stood over me, watching me bleed to death, telling me all about my– how my sister’s children screamed while they burned.”

 

“She was the one…” Chris whispers.

 

Talia only claws the table in contained fury, “Continue.” Is all she manages to say.

 

“She set the fire under her father’s orders; he was at the head of the Battle of Hattil, betraying our soldiers while his daughter burned our family alive.”

 

Peter could still smell the burning flesh; he could still hear the howling inside the falling house. The castle of Hattil was under siege by the corrupted Sparks that had been raging over the Hale and Argent lands for the last two years. Peter only left the battle to stop the fires raging in town, that’s when he found the Hale’s house, the temporary refuge the _Argents_ had allowed them while they stayed in their recently appropriated castle.

 

They knew; Gerard at the very least had known the Corrupt Sparks would attack them there, and he made sure they attacked the Hale army first.  

 

“The battle raged on, everyone died, everyone except Gerard and his precious daughter.” Peter holds back a snarl at the thought of her.

 

“Everyone was devastated by the war Peter– everyone, even Gerard lost men.” Laura says defensively.

 

“No.” Chris draws the entire room to him, “My father lost mercenaries, only mercenaries. He told me our losses were few and acceptable; I always doubted his retelling of the battle, it never felt –“

 

“Honest?” Peter asks with a smirk.

 

“No, but then, honesty was never something my father believed in.” Peter has to look away, Chris’s eyes the bluest they’ve ever been; Peter had forgotten how infuriatingly attractive the man could be.

 

“That next day Gerard proposed an alliance against the corrupt Sparks; you remember Talia.”

 

“He offered his daughter to Derek, and Lord Argent to Laura.” Talia answered flatly, "I always knew Gerard had no intention of keeping his word of an alliance by marriage.”

 

“Oh, Kate had every intention of marrying Derek, and Gerard would force his son to marry Laura. What was not in their plan, however, was the continued existence of your spymaster; I needed to die for them to succeed.”

 

Peter looks at Talia and he can feel Chris staring at him from across the table; the next part would be painful for them both.

 

“Gerard knew of Christophe’s and my– interest in one another, and he promptly destroyed any hope for the two of us with the marriage proposals. Christophe broke it off with me on his father’s orders and I was– angered. Angry enough to want to get back at him, at them both really.”

 

“So you snuck off into the woods to– screw my sister?” Chris asks abruptly.

 

“Yes.” Peter says staring into the hunter's eyes. “My intention was to not only piss you off, but also destroy your sister’s virtue, though I doubt she had any to spare by the time I got to her.”

 

Stiles hides a snort poorly and Peter smirks at his response, appreciating the fact he could still be as snide as his former self, at least enough to elicit more than bitterness.

 

“After we, screwed, as you put it so eloquently Christophe; your serpentine sister stabbed me in the heart with a blade soaked in aconitum noveboracense.”

 

“Northern Blue Monkshood; it was her favorite species of wolfsbane.” Chris admits tightly.  

 

“Wait– sorry, but if you were poisoned with wolfsbane, actually stabbed in the heart with it how did you even survive?” Stiles asks curiously.

 

“The parasite?” Deaton looks to Peter in question.

 

“Yes, it came to me with an offer. It would give me my vengeance by curing the poison and the wounds, saving my life; and in return I would allow it a place to live.” Peter glares at the table, “I assumed it meant a place in the castle, a room in the court, but…it meant a place to live, inside my _head_.”

 

“It saved you, though– I wonder how? I mean it was strong, but…” Stiles trails off in thought.

 

“It is unusual that it was so powerful.” Deaton agrees.

 

“It told me that I was not the first creature it had used as its host; this was of course after it nestled its consciousness inside mine.” Peter remarks grudgingly; admitting only to himself how remarkable the little devil’s trickery truly was.

 

“Then he took you over?” Laura asks.

 

“It took time, but I had no choice but to let it happen. Deaton assured me that he could not cure it immediately, he would need time to find a way to stop the creature, to _save_ me.”

 

“Yes, we are aware that you swore him to secrecy.” Talia says bitterly.

 

“I did. It was best for everyone.”

 

“And who ever said that was your decision to make?” Talia says, raising her tone ever so slightly; Peter knew he would not win an argument with her now, not in his current depressing state.

 

“I’m sorry.” She goes still at his words, reaching for his hand and gripping it tightly, her anger over his decisions apparently laid to rest, for the moment at least.

 

“So- uh, why _did_ you write the story anyway?” Stiles asks suddenly.

 

Peter raises his head to the boy, “The wolf wrote it, carved it actually, from my memory. He wanted to know the story, and he told me that the best way to remember the betrayal as his own, the vengeance as his own was to carve it out.”

 

“Why though, I mean- couldn’t he just see it in your head?”

 

“Back then he was still gaining control over me, he couldn’t access all of my memories.”

 

“Oh.” Stiles says slowly.

 

“Kate and Gerard. I know you killed them, but I would like to know what happened.” Chris asks rather abruptly, utter silence falling over the room soon after.

 

“You should know.” Peter agrees, surprising himself.

 

 _Perhaps his new self is incapable of holding grudges?_ _Or perhaps he just wishes he could talk to Chris the way he used to, look at him the way he used to, touch him the way he used to._

 

“Kate was at the castle after she killed me; I crept inside her chambers and allowed her to see me, to attempt to fight me. I slashed her throat in the end; she is dead Christophe, I buried her in the forest.” Peter tells him.

 

“That explains the blood in her room, and my father?” Chris asks, meeting his eyes.

 

“I took him from the courtyard at night, after a meeting with a guard who he was staging a coup with. He planned to kill the rest of you in our own court and imprison who he could, then take the castle for the Argent’s.”

 

Most everyone is stunned, except for Talia; she did always see the _real_ Gerard, right alongside Peter.

 

“I stole him away to the forest and cut him in half, after I forced him to tell me the truth.”

 

“The truth behind what?” Derek asks stiffly.

 

“The fires at Hattil, and – Adalia’s death.”

 

“Adalia– you think Gerard had something to do with the death of your wife?” Talia asks urgently.

 

“He told me he had her killed, poisoned, to die a slow and painful death. He then went on to tell me about his instructions to his mercenaries at Hattil; they were to circle the houses in mountain ash so they couldn’t escape, then burn our family-  _alive_.” Peter grits out the last word, remembering the smells, the screams of that night.

 

“Shit…” Stiles whispers.

 

“I don’t regret killing them, either of them, however I do regret not allowing you to know they were dead. They were still your family Chris, as loathe as you must be of their actions now, they were still family.” Chris meets his eyes, surprised by his former lover’s words.

 

“Thank you Peter.”

 

“I can show you, where they’re buried – if you’d like to visit them.” Peter nods to Chris.

 

He nods stiffly in return, his eyes full of gratitude, his scent that of sorrow and shame.

 

\--

 

“OK so, Kate and Gerard, the carving got those covered, but what about the kids; the stories we heard about the wolf taking people from villages and them being lost to the forest?” Stiles asks.

 

“The wolf took many people, young people; teens and young adults, never children. However he attempted to turn them all, that or, _play with them_.” Peter answers tightly.

 

“What became of them?” Laura asks.

 

“They all died one way or another, by his hand or by the bite itself. He never took care of them, not like an alpha should. They– he never knew their names, he only ever had nicknames for them, never bothered to ask who they were, if they had family– he didn’t care to know.”

 

“We can’t give peace to their families then.” Derek says quietly.

 

“Actually, he kept things, their belongings, only things they had with them when he took them into the forest. They’re in his den, I can take you there– “

 

“NO!” Talia shouts, and Peter’s head snaps to her in surprise, “I– you never have to go back there. Not ever.” Talia grips his hand tightly, and Peter nods in obedience.

 

“I can describe the path then.”

 

“Yes, that, that’s good.” Laura says, obviously surprised by her mother’s outburst just as much as the rest of them.

 

“That’s everything I think…” Stiles says quietly.

 

“Now, Peter you should get some rest.” Laura says gently.

 

“You should meet everyone later as well, I know they’re all curious about you.” Cora says earnestly.

 

“Oh? Well, I wouldn’t want to keep them in suspense.” Peter manages a small smile at his niece before standing from the table and excusing himself to his chambers.

 

The day had been enough so far, he wanted time to think, figure out what he was going to do now.

 

He had his freedom, finally, but what was he to do with it?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explanations everywhere! Enjoy and sorry it took so damn long for me to upload this one. Comments an d kudos are very welcome here.


	13. Announcements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, they are, but Chris is still in the Hollow Forest and Talia – I – actually I think she’ll be there too.” Stiles cringes next to Lydia.
> 
>    
> “What is it? What is this meeting?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Uh nothing, just you know announcing my undying love for Derek in the biggest way possible in front of his entire family.” Stiles says, his eyes wide in fear.

The next few days are slow and filled with introductions and sympathetic smiles from the court’s nobles and the cities’ people. The third day since his return however, is filled with mystery as a young man presents himself to the court; Peter had heard he’d showed up around the time of the battle, naked and covered in dirt telling a tale of his encounter with the wolf.

 

Peter remembered little of the encounter, as the wolf had locked him away in the recesses of his own mind; however he did remember the hatred the wolf had for the man, how furious he was that the boy had escaped him. Peter was understandably curious to learn more of the young man, where he came from and why.

 

His niece, the Queen, asked him to sit in on the royal meeting in The Throne Room; she assured the young man that he was not to be questioned right away, but that she would allow him a temporary home in the castle so he could recuperate. The young man accepted graciously and offered his name as Jackson, before bowing properly and exiting the hall.

 

“He’s obviously been traumatized.” Derek says flatly as the royals meet in the middle of the court after the man has left.

 

“I do wonder what’s happened to make him that way, and we need to know, but he should be allowed some time to heal before we talk to him again. A few days at the very least.” Laura responds, her eyes lingering on the door.

 

“I shall look forward to the day we get to talk to him, considering he faced the wolf and managed to come out physically unscathed.” Peter remarks easily, his curiosity overshadowing his guilt over the man’s encounter with the parasite.

 

“Yes, it’s, unusual.” Laura says stiffly.

 

“He seems haunted to me, something terrible must have happened to him.” Cora says sympathetically, “I wonder if he has family?”

 

“Well, until we can ask him I suggest we all give him his space.” Laura says.

 

They all nod before saying their goodbyes and retreating to spend their days of leisure how they see fit; Peter was to have a meal with his sister, which he both looked forward to and loathed the idea of. He knew she would interrogate him about things his nieces and nephew would not, things he really didn’t want to think about until the day that he absolutely had to.

 

Talia it seemed was set on that day, being _today_.

 

\--

 

“Peter.” Talia says with a smile, leaning in to hug him as she ushers him into the room.

 

“I see you wanted me all to yourself today?” Peter says, remarking on the full breakfast feast that Talia had set up in her chambers, “You actually brought in a table?”

 

“Yes, well I need to talk to you about certain things, and I know how much you’re going to hate it. I decided it’d be best to do it this way, just the two of us.” Talia says, gesturing a hand to Peter to sit down next to her.

 

“I see.” Peter remarks with a short sigh.

 

“What about you and Chris.”

“You waste no time, didn’t even wait for me to get comfortable.” Peter scoffs.

 

“Peter, please.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“You know very well Peter.”

 

“He’s, avoided me for the past few days, I can’t tell you more than that.”

 

“You know he’s been in the woods visiting his family’s graves and sorting business for Laura. He has not been avoiding you.” Talia says passing Peter the butter for his pancakes.

 

“Fine. But he hasn’t said anything. Not a word since the meeting.”

 

“And what can he say, what can he say to allow you to forgive him for his family’s atrocities against ours? Really Peter, what could he possibly say?” Peter avoids her eyes and decorates his food with fruit and sugary syrup.

 

“He has nothing to apologize for.”

 

“You know he believes that it’s his fault; he blames himself, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. You know him better than anyone Peter, you know exactly how he feels.”

 

“And what do you want me to do Talia? Ask him to apologize? He had no hand in their deaths, and– even if he did apologize it wouldn’t matter, it won’t change anything.”

 

“Are you really that bitter over the end of your courtship that you would disallow the man to apologize to you?” Talia says tightly.

 

“Not just a courtship.” Peter remarks angrily.

 

Talia sighs, “I know.” She grips his hand and he meets her eyes, “You are _true_ mates Peter, like Richerd and I were so long ago, destined to be together, you only ever have one true mate in your _entire_ life. You were fortunate to find yours, just as I was. You belong together, and I know even after everything through your bitterness and anger, you feel it. You still care for him, and he for you.”

 

“Destined...what do I do then? What’s your advice sister?” Peter asks, infuriated.

 

“Let him come to you, be open to the possibility that you two can be together again. That’s all I ask, let happen what _should_ happen.” Talia says, pleading in her eyes, “I want nothing more than my family’s happiness Peter, and you especially deserve something great.”

 

“Yes– alright. We will see what he does then.” Peter says quietly, pulling his hand from Talia and taking a bite of his food.

 

He spies Talia’s smile before she starts eating along with him. As he chews, he wonders, when he decided to forgive him, when it happened. How he missed it.

 

\----

 

“Royal Scribe? I thought Stiles had that position?” Lydia asks knowing full well that Stiles had become the royal emissary after the battle, accepting his rightful place in court, but she asked the question anyway.  

 

“Yes, but he is now Emissary Stiles, having accepted Deaton’s position as our royal emissary.” Cora says easily, giving Lydia a look she can’t decipher.

 

 _That expression requires further investigation,_ Lydia decides.

 

“I see. Well, I will accept then, after all the Queen should not be without a scribe.” Lydia says with a smirk, “Was there something else?”

 

“I– the Queen wants also to offer you a place in her inner circle, as her personal omen of death. You would be the first Royal Banshee in the kingdom’s existence.”

 

“Hmm, that is an interesting offer; inner circle, I rather like the sound of that actually. Peter, he is within the inner circle as well?”

 

“Yes, is that a problem?”

 

“No, not at all. Peter and I had a conversation yesterday actually, and we’ve settled any grievances we might have had.”

 

“I heard– you slapped him.” Cora says stiffly.

 

“Yes, well I had to do something drastic before I could forgive him.” Lydia says leaning against the wall, her arms crossed.

 

“Yeah– yes I imagine so.” Cora stumbles over her words and Lydia quirks a brow.

 

“You offering something else by any chance?” Lydia smiles sweetly at the princess.

 

“I wanted to– ask you to dinner actually.” Cora says slowly and cautiously as if she is treading a minefield.

 

Lydia smirks haughtily and walks over to the Hale Princess, planting a firm, wet kiss on her plump lips. Cora inhales sharply under the sudden action, her guards doing the same behind the girls; but Lydia ignores them and pushes her body into Cora, her hands wrapping around her waist. Cora tilts her head, deepening their kiss and moans quietly as Lydia flicks her tongue over hers. Lydia pulls away, watching as Cora seems to shake herself from her stupor, opening her eyes quickly and staring wordlessly at Lydia.

 

“As long as dinner will be hosted by you alone, and it will take place in your private chambers, then– yes, I’ll join you for a meal.”

 

“I– great.” Cora smiles before taking a breath and sharpening her expression, “I’ll see you tonight, in my chambers.” She says with a sheltered expression before leaving the library, her guards following her in serious shock.

 

“I have to tell Stiles.” Lydia smirks to herself before exiting the library and heading for the Arcanaeum, a fancy word for Stiles’ place of magical study.

 

\--

 

“Lydia!” Stiles greets her with a broad grin, “Uh– I would hug you but–“

 

“Maybe later.” Lydia says smartly, eyeing Stiles robes with curiosity, seeing his robes covered in a brightly colored green powder.

 

“Yeah.” He laughs at his own mess before sobering up and looking worried, “Shit, I have to get cleaned up– oh Gods.” He says running into a back room.

 

Lydia leans against a clean table and listens to the sounds of things being thrown with a brow raised; she sees a pair of pants fly across the back room’s open door and Stiles runs by shirtless, disappearing behind a wall.

 

“Stiles?”

 

“Yeah?” He peeks his head from behind the wall, the green powder now smudged across his cheek.”

 

“Where’s the fire?”

 

“Oh– uh I, me and Derek actually, have a meeting in The Throne Room with the inner circle in like, three minutes.” He says peering at the sundial near the windows before disappearing again.

 

“I see, well then I should probably get going myself.”

 

“Uh, OK talk later?”

 

“Talk soon actually, considering I am now a part of the inner circle.”

 

“Wait! What?” He says coming out of the back room, clothed, save for shoes, “Oh.” He says looking at his naked feet, he wiggles his toes before retreating to into the back again.

 

“I’m sure the Queen will explain it to you.”

 

“Wait– hey!” He yells as Lydia walks out of the room and heads for The Throne Room; she hears something crashing and Stiles yelling expletives before a door slams open and she can hear him running after her.

 

“Took you long enough.”

 

“Uh– you are ruthless, seriously. So– “ he breathes harshly next to her, walking with her, “what was that about you being the inner circle now?”

 

“I am officially a part of the Queen’s inner circle, her personal death omen.”

 

“The Queen’s banshee?”

 

“Yes. Interesting isn’t it?”

 

“Very. So Peter, Laura, Cora, You, Derek and Me are all going to be there. Alright.”

 

“I thought Queen Mother Talia and General Argent were members of the Inner Circle as well?”

 

“Yeah, they are, but Chris is still in the Hollow Forest and Talia – I – actually I think she’ll be there too.” Stiles cringes next to Lydia.

 

“What is it? What is this meeting?”

 

“Uh nothing, just you know announcing my undying love for Derek in the biggest way possible in front of his _entire_ family.” Stiles says, his eyes wide in fear.

 

“Wait, do you mean- ?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Congratulations!” Stiles turns to her with narrowed eyes, “You’re going to be fine, they all love you, even Peter and he barely knows you.”

 

“Yeah I know– wait Peter likes me? Since when?”

 

“Since he first saw you he said.”

 

“When did he say that?”

 

“Yesterday.”

 

“But– what does that mean, should I be worried?”

 

“Stiles we’re here.”

 

“No, I need to know what it means! It’s very important – ahh!”

 

Lydia pushes Stiles through the doors and into the hall, he saves himself from face planting, _just barely_ , before correcting his posture and glaring at Lydia.

 

“Now is more important.” She smirks before following his lead into The Throne Room.

 

“Stiles, Lydia, glad you could make it.” Laura says with a look of amusement in her eyes; Cora sits to the left of her throne, Peter to her right in a throne Prince Derek usually occupies, however the prince is now standing in the middle of The Throne Room waiting for Stiles.

 

Lydia takes a stance next to Lord Paien and three other nobles she has yet to meet; Stiles stands close to his mate and apologizes to him for his lateness. Lydia resists the urge to roll her eyes as he sticks a hand up the back of Derek’s shirt to rest on his lower back.

 

“Sorry I’m late Your Majesty.” Stiles apologizes.

 

“Its fine, you two called this meeting for a good reason I suspect; so, what is it you wanted to tell us?” Laura asks, obviously eager.

 

Lydia wonders how many of the royals already know why they are all here; Just then Talia enters the massive hall and takes a position next to Lydia, nodding curtly to the room and allowing her son to speak.

 

“I – Derek?”

 

The prince takes Stiles’ hand in his and looks to his family on their thrones, the room stills in anticipation; Cora is curious, Laura is eager, Peter and Talia are expressionless.

 

“Stiles and I are engaged.”            

 

Talia smiles next to Lydia, her eyes wrinkle in happiness; Cora looks like she’s ready to jump from her seat in glee, whereas The Queen actually does. She races across the room and grips her brother in a tight hug, her dress sweeping over the floor, her arms wrapped around her brother’s neck. She’s grinning so hard Lydia actually worries that her face might break; she grins too and see’s Peter and Cora descending their thrones to join the delight of their family.

 

Talia is already at Stiles’ side, he pulls his eyes away from the unorthodox display of their Queen to eye the Queen Regent warily. She smiles and puts a hand around his shoulders, Cora grips his hand in hers and Peter stands a few inches from his niece and nephew’s embrace; he too manages a happy smile.

 

“This is perfect! I’m so happy for you both. We have to- your pack, Erica, Boyd, Isaac and even the Lady Argent, they are all a part of the Hale Pack now!”

 

“Uh – Your Majesty that’s not in the laws!” Lord Paien announces.

 

“Oh shush Paien. It’s happening; they are Hales now, _all_ of them.” The queen lets her feet touch the floor again, letting go of Prince Derek only to pull Stiles into a tight embrace.

 

Stiles looks shocked and Lydia is right there with him; Stiles starts laughing alongside the Queen and Cora. Queen Mother Talia watches her children with a firm smile planted on her face and Lydia almost joins them in their celebration, stopping only to see Prince Derek hugging his uncle amorously.

 

“Derek…” Peter whispers, shock on his face, the prince says nothing, his back to the rest of the room. Peter closes his eyes and wraps his arms around his nephew, and the room quiets.

 

“I missed you.” Prince Derek whispers, and Lydia can see a tear in the Queen Mother’s eyes.

 

Cora and her sister are holding hands as they watch them, Stiles is quiet, his back to Lydia, and Talia grips her daughter’s hand, her other hand finding Stiles’. No one says a word for what seems like an hour, but eventually Prince Derek pulls away from his uncle and Peter smiles widely at his nephew before grinning at the rest of them.

 

The queen starts laughing at him and runs over to hug him herself, Cora and her mother joining the group hug soon after; Stiles gestures to Lydia as he pulls his fiancé into a side hug, and she walks over cautiously, knowing she really has no place in this.

 

The moment she’s in reach however, Stiles pulls her under his arm, his hand gripping her shoulder, he grins at her before returning his gaze to the family reunion in front of them.

 

“The Hale Pack is back together.” Stiles whispers happily and Lydia can feel Derek’s hand over Stiles’ across her shoulders, she smiles at Derek and is happy to see his return is genuine.

 

“It’s perfect.” He whispers.

 

\----

 

“Did you guys hear?!” Erica runs into The Main Hall yelling.

 

“Hear what?” Allison asks, giggling as Isaac kisses her cheek.

 

“Stop what you guys are doing!” Erica demands, and Boyd looks at her is annoyance before laying down his hand of cards, Scott does the same before staring at Erica in curiosity.

 

“What is it? Did something happen?” Scott asks.

 

“Oh no, nothing, except Derek and Stiles announcing their engagement!”

 

“So they told everybody? Good, how did it go?” Scott grins happily.

 

“Wait, you knew?” Erica asks angrily.

 

“Of course I knew, we’re practically brothers, he told me before anybody else I think.” Scott answers, obviously confused by Erica’s anger.

 

“How did it go?” Allison asks eagerly.

 

“Ugh! You should have told us you moron!” Erica snaps at Scott before sighing and taking a place at the table next to Boyd, “It went great. Better than great actually, at least that’s what Lydia told me.”

 

“Where _is_ Lydia?” Isaac asks, his arm around Allison’s shoulders.

 

“She’s talking to those girls, you know the coyote and the fox?”

 

“We should go find them then.” Allison says standing suddenly, she smiles when both Scott and Isaac get up to follow her without question.

 

_Erica was right, they are puppies._

 

“Hey!” Erica says watching as Boyd follows them to get up.

 

“Come on babe, you can tell us the rest while we walk.” Boyd tells her, and Allison has the boys wait for them in the hall so they can all go together.

 

“Ugh, fine.”

 

“Where are they?”

 

“They are, in the guest quarters I think.” Erica says, Boyd’s arm over her shoulder they all walk together to Malia and Kira’s chambers.

 

Allison can’t help but love the idea of Stiles and Derek getting married; they would bring together the kingdom in true love as true mates. It was so beautiful and exciting Allison couldn’t help but smile every time she thought about it.

 

\--

 

“Hey, open up, you’ve got visitors!” Erica yells.

 

“Erica.” Isaac smiles fondly at her rudeness.

 

Scott pokes her in the side making her giggle, “Hey! Watch it Scottie or I might start to think you want to turn your little threesome into a _foursome_.” Erica’s grin is feral and Scott just laughs; they still as the door opens.

 

“You guys are loud.” Malia says staring at them all, and Erica grins at her before pushing past her and into the room.

 

“Erica, you’re supposed to wait until you’re invited in.” Isaac groans.

 

“It’s fine. I’d do the same thing.” Malia says tonelessly ushering the rest of them to enter.

 

“Hey!” Kira says waving them over to the fireplace to sit down on the sofas, “I’m so glad you guys are here!”

 

“Lydia.” Allison says happily as she sits down next to her friend.

 

“Allison, I see you brought your boy toys.”

 

“Hey– we’re not?” Scott says sheepishly.

 

“Shush Scott.” Erica says pushing him onto a couch and squeezing in next to him.

 

Lydia groans next to Allison, “What is it?”

 

“This couch was meant for three people, not _six_.”

 

Allison looks to her right and giggles quietly, seeing Isaac next to her, Scott next to him and Erica and Boyd at the end squished in together.

 

“Yes, you’re right, uh, we’ll move.” Allison chuckles pulling Scott and Isaac with her to the other sofa, Lydia to her left, and Erica and Boyd cuddled on the far end of the middle sofa with Lydia. Malia and Kira take the loveseat opposite Allison and her boys; Kira is all smiles as she watches the group settle in.

 

“Everybody settled now?” She asks, and Allison nods at her.

 

“Finally.” Malia says flatly.

 

“So– uh, why are you all here anyway, did something happen?”

 

\--

 

“Wow!” They're engaged, how exciting!” Kira says happily and Malia looks pleased, “I can’t wait for the wedding– oh, do you think we’re invited?” She looks to the coyote.

 

“Perhaps, probably.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure you are, and if they don’t invite you, I will.” Lydia says easily, as if it was obvious.

 

“Oh thanks so much Lydia.”

 

She shakes her head, “You two helped save my life, it’s the least I could do.”

 

“So, you guys are pack now right?”

 

“Scott!” Allison says shocked by his question.

 

“What? I mean, they saved Lydia, and Lydia is pack, and they seem like good people.” He says easily.

 

“Plus we don’t have any coyotes or foxes in the pack, and their abilities would probably be useful in a fight.” Isaac adds.

 

“You can’t just ask them– “

 

“You two are pack. That’s that.” Erica declares.

 

Allison stares at the group and sees their all in agreement, even Boyd nods to her and Lydia just stares resolute at the girls.

 

“Shouldn’t Derek meet them first?” Allison asks.

 

“Oh yeah!” Scott says eagerly.

 

“Your leader?” Kira says cautiously.

 

“Alpha.” Malia corrects her.

 

“Yeah he’s great. Really stern at first, like he doesn’t talk much if he doesn’t know you, kind of like Boyd.” Scott gestures to Boyd who says nothing, “But, Derek talks more than Boyd, like a lot more.” He smiles at her and she smiles back clearly excited to meet the Alpha.

 

“Hey, what’s your guys’ story anyway?” Erica asks randomly.

 

“Uh, mine?” Kira asks, staring at Malia for help.

 

“I’ll tell mine first.” She responds and Kira smiles graciously.

 

“Erica– you don’t have to Malia, its fine.” Allison says quickly.

 

“If we’re gonna be pack, you all should know.”

 

“OK.” Allison answers shakily.

 

“My dad was a coyote, my mom too, but she was born that way. He was turned by an Alpha years before they met. They had me after they became mates and I was born as a werecoyote. They died when I was eight, killed by some humans in the woods where we lived, and I attacked them, killing two of them before attacking some kid that was with them. He was maybe five years older than me. I was so angry I didn’t care if he was begging for his life, I just attacked.”

 

“What happened to him?”

 

“I ate him.”

 

“Oh.” Allison responds, her eyes wide.

 

“Wow.” Erica says with a smile, “What then?”

 

“My eyes turned blue since I killed an innocent, I guess. I was alone for years then I met a pack in the depths of the forest and they let me join them. They died three years ago, killed by a rival pack, and then hunters killed _them_ since they’d murdered some villagers or something. Then I met Deaton and Kira.”

 

“That’s it?” Boyd asks.

 

She just nods in response and Allison looks to Kira for answers, “I am– a longer story I guess.” Kira says shyly.

 

A knock at the door interrupts them and Kira tells them to enter; two royal guards address the room, “Apologies for the interruption, the queen would like an audience with Lady Kira.”

 

“Can- can I ask what about? Am I in trouble?” Kira asks shakily.

 

“I am unsure my lady, only that the Queen requests your presence in The Great Hall.”

 

“OK, but, Malia has to come with me.” The guard nods and bows lowly gesturing for the girls to follow him, “Sorry, uh– we’ll talk later?”

 

Nobody says anything as the girls are ushered out of the room; Allison stares at the open door and gazes at the pack. Lydia nods to her and Allison jumps up with her to head for the door.

 

“Hey!” She hears Scott yell behind them.

 

“Where are you two going?” Isaac says rushing to join them, Scott, Erica and Boyd are all quick on their heels.

 

“We’re following them, obviously.” Lydia answers.

 

“So we’re spying on the meeting right?” Erica says eagerly.

 

“Of course.” Lydia responds with a scoff.

 

“But, the queen– we can’t spy on the queen!” Scott whispers harshly.

 

“I am part of her inner circle and all of you are part of the Royal Hale Pack, so– I think she’ll go easy on us, if she finds out, which she won’t. Will she.” Lydia glares at the pack trailing behind them and Allison glares right alongside her.

 

“No.” They all say, almost in perfect succession.

 

“Good.” Lydia says speeding her walk, the pack rushing to follow her.

 

\--

 

Allison peeks around the corner of the hall, watching the guards usher the girls into The Great Hall.

 

“They’re in.” Scott moves and Allison grabs his arm, “Wait.”

 

She watches the guards exit the room and huffs in irritation, “What?” Scott asks.

 

“They’re outside of the room, the guards.” Boyd answers evenly.

 

“So?” Lydia says suddenly.

 

“Well, we can’t just go over there and stick our ears up to the door.”

 

“Really? Do I actually have to remind you all that your _werewolves_?”

 

“Come on!” Erica whispers, pulling Boyd and Scott with her to the small room next to them. Isaac, Allison and Lydia all follow behind; closing the door to the small room behind them.

 

“What now?” Scott asks Erica, who rolls her chestnut eyes and points to the ceiling.

 

Scott shrugs, “The crawlspace, it leads to the next room; the rafters.” Erica scoffs.

 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Lydia smirks at the golden haired wolf and she grins back.

 

“OK I’m going up, who’s coming with me?”

 

“You can’t just listen from here?” Allison asks curiously.

 

“There’s a little panel up there, it’s warded, but if the panel is open we can hear inside.”

 

“How do you know all of this stuff?” Scott whispers.

 

“Do you really want to know?” Erica waggles her eyebrows at Scott’s confused expression and he winces.

 

“Nevermind.”

 

“So you get up there, open it then listen in.” Allison nods and Erica winks at her before scaling the stone wall with ease. Her feet dangle from the edge of the crawlspace and she can hear a slight shuffle and then a quiet scraping sound.

 

Erica drops from the edge and lands perfectly on her feet, tossing back her curly blonde hair and smiling at them all; Scott grins at her and Lydia smirks her praise.

 

“Great job.” Allison says happily and Erica smiles again before gesturing to the wolves to listen.

 

“Lady Kira– “ The queen starts, but Boyd says she’s interrupted by three men.

 

“What the hell is a Hime?” Erica whispers.

 

“Hime? Who, Kira or Malia?” Allison asks.

 

“Kira.” Isaac answers.

 

“It means- it’s Japanese, for Princess.”

 

“Wait– so Kira is a Princess?”

 

“Shhh!” Erica hushes the pack and the wolves still.

 

\--

 

“Hime Kira, at long last we have found you.”

 

“Toshiro – I - what are you doing here?”

 

“We have come to take you home, to return you to the Empress Noshiko.”

 

“No, I’m not leaving.”

 

“But– Hime, we must leave, your mother has demanded your return.”

 

“Its succession time isn’t it?”

 

“Succession time?” Erica whispers.

 

“She sounds irritated.” Isaac remarks.

 

“You can tell my mother that she has seven other Kitsune daughters to choose from, five of which are older than me, and would be better suited to rule than I would.”

 

“Seven sisters?” Scott says surprised.

 

“All foxes too.” Boyd whispers.

 

“Hime, we– I cannot leave without you.”

 

“I won’t return, I’ve found a home here, with someone I love.”

 

“Hime– a woman? Your mother would not approve.”

 

“I don’t care! She can’t make me come home, there’s no reason I should go back.”

 

“She’s your mother.”

 

“Was that Malia?” Scott asks.

 

“What – Malia…”

 

“You really don’t want to go? Or is it because you’re mad at your mom?”

 

“I – I don’t want to go back. I’m mad at her but, I want to stay because here, I’m not a princess, I can be myself here. I can be with _you_ here.”

 

“Aww.” Erica says happily.

 

“What?” Allison asks.

 

“Tell you later…” The wolves listen intently.

 

“What if we go back together to talk to your mother?”

 

“You would– you mean explain it to her?”

 

“Would she listen?”

 

“Yes – I think so. She’s always been really independent of her own family, when she was my age, I think – yeah, she’d listen. We’ll make her listen, make her understand.”

 

“OK.”

 

“Really? You really want to go? You’d do that?”

 

“I’d do anything for you.”

 

“She makes it sound so obvious…” Boyd whispers.

 

“OK, together then. Toshiro-san!”

 

“Yes Hime!”

 

“We will return, _together_.”                

 

“Very good Hime Kira. We shall leave at once.”

 

“Uh – wait!”

 

“Hime?”

 

“We have to say goodbye to our friends!”

 

“Guys come on!” Erica very nearly yells.

 

“What is it?” Lydia asks.

 

“Their coming to say goodbye.” Isaac says as Erica runs past him and out the door.

 

The pack peel around the corner and the guards are shocked to see the heap of people coming from nowhere; they attempt to stop them but the pack easily push past the outnumbered guards and into The Great Hall.

 

Allison sees Laura smirking knowingly from behind the Imperial soldiers; she smiles shyly at her and she nods to Kira’s back.

 

“Come on.” Allison pushes forward and stops a foot in front of Kira, the rest of the pack still behind her.

 

Allison bows lowly before the Princess and comes up smiling; she pulls Allison into a hug and the pack piles onto them from behind. Allison can see Erica roping Malia into it too and she smiles widely as Kira starts laughing.

 

The Imperial soldiers are stunned into silence and the royal guards are apologizing to the Queen for their uselessness.

 

“It’s fine, really. Their happy, so I’m happy.” Laura chuckles, “Oh come now, stop with the long faces, you’re not going to be beheaded or anything, I swear.” One of the guards scoffs shocked by his Queen’s openness.

 

The pack pulls away after Malia complains of being suffocated; then they’re laughing or smiling at themselves and each other, “Are you really leaving?” Scott asks a dopey grin on his face.

 

“Yes, but only for a little while. A month or so I think, hopefully we won’t miss the wedding!” Kira says eagerly.

 

“We won’t.” Malia answers, her arm finding Kira’s waist.

 

“Good.” Lydia says happily.

 

“We’re going to tell my mother what’s happening and then we’ll be back before you know it! We have to go right away though. So, I’ll miss you– all of you, I feel like I know you all so well already even though, I really don’t.” Kira giggles.

 

“We’ll have plenty of time for that when you both return.” Allison says, her dimples aching against her smiling face.

 

“I look forward to it.” Kira smiles, saying her goodbyes to each one of them.

 

\--

 

“I’m gonna miss them.” Erica says suddenly as the pack gathers around the end of the dock, watching the ship sail out.

 

Allison is tucked between Isaac and Scott, Isaacs hand on her back and Scott’s arm over her shoulders, reaching over her to grip Isaac’s shoulder. Lydia stands next to Erica and Boyd where they stand hugging each other.

 

“Me too.” Boyd says.

 

Allison turns to stare at him and the pack joins her in her shock.

 

“What?” Boyd asks them, even Erica is staring at her boyfriend in surprise.

 

They all break out in laughter, even Boyd cracks a smile; their laughter howls out over the sound of the parting waves of the ship, and Allison hopes Malia and Kira can hear them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearing the end now...I'm gonna be sad about it...so sad, I might actually have to write another one?


	14. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door creaks open and the rain wets his toes, “Christophe?” 
> 
>  
> 
> The hunter looks up, blue eyes dilated, clothes soaked completely; the rain had been unforgiving tonight, and the hunter seemed not to care as he stares into Peter’s eyes.

Christophe had returned to the capital the morning after Peter had his uncomfortable but revelatory talk with Talia; followed by a few royal guards and a large satchel filled with what remained of the lives of the wolf’s victims, the hunter returned everything to the Queen on arrival.

 

“General Argent. I’m glad to see you’ve returned safely.” Laura says happily as the hunter addresses her and Peter in The Great Hall.

 

 _He just had to wear it didn’t he?_ Peter fights the urge to roll his eyes or lick his lips as he observes the cropped leather jacket the hunter is so well known for; the deep red, blood colored jacket with the high collar and the quilted shoulders. _Why does he have to look so good in it?_

 

“Thank you Your Majesty. I have returned with the belongings of the wolf’s victims as you asked.” He gestures to the young hunter to his right and the boy hands the satchel he’d been carrying to Chris, “Your Majesty.” He says formally, handing the satchel to Laura.

 

“Well, it’s quite a lot more than I imagined. Have you taken a look at anything yet?”

 

“I have not Your Majesty, but I would like to track down some of the families if I can, as soon as possible.”

 

Laura meets the determination in his eyes; she holds his gaze for a few seconds before side eyeing her Uncle for some reason.

 

“I think you can take a few days rest while our newly appointed scribe takes a look at these.” She says lifting her arm slightly to gesture to the satchel.

 

“A scribe?” Peter asks mockingly.

 

“Yes Peter, she is quite adept at deciphering things, and I imagine there are at least a few items in here that require that. Also, Stiles can use his magic to trace ownership of whatever you cannot General.” Chris nods curtly, “In the meantime, go home, rest. I will send for you when I need you.”

 

“Yes Your Majesty.” Chris bows and turns away without a second glance, his hunters turning on his heel to follow.

 

“What was that?” Peter asks the moment the doors close, “He won’t want to rest you know. He’ll want to start his work with these items, and I thought you would want the same.”

 

“I have my priorities Peter, though they may not be the priorities of a Queen today.” She turns to the table to shuffle through daily situation reports, “I know Argent retrieved the items, but I would rather he rest and let my scribe and our emissary handle it for now.”

 

“Why?” Peter prods.

 

She turns to meet his eye, “You two have things to discuss, and I hope that Argent will figure out that now is the perfect time to hash it out with you.”

 

“What is it with you and your mother?” Peter groans.

 

“You wouldn’t be acting this way if he didn’t matter to you.” Peter’s eyes snap to his niece, “You know- we just want to see you happy.”

 

“I will- make myself available for the next few days. But I will not go to him; it’s his turn to pursue me.” Peter says, pointedly avoiding his nieces’ gaze. 

 

“Very well.” He spies the edges of a smile on her face before she turns back to her reports.

 

He’d wait, wondering what Christophe would do. The man was just as stubborn as Peter when he didn’t want to do something; no one could make him reconcile. Peter had already forgiven him, though he still wondered when he had.

 

He still felt it, every time he laid eyes on the hunter, every time he smelled him; the draw of his _mate_. Destiny the legends called it, that wolves and some other shapeshifters could find mates, some that were not destined but instead instinctual, based upon attractions and similar personalities. Other legends said that there was one mate for every wolf, one that they were fated to be with. Some mates the wolf could choose, but others were chosen for them.

 

The true stories of the phenomenon told of a choice however, even if you were fated to be with one person and you happened to find them, you didn’t _have_ to be with them. The draw was unbearable though, the scent of him, the taste- Peter knew he couldn’t live in the capital with the man without pursuing something with him.

 

Once upon a time he would have pursued a purely physical relationship without a second thought, and he had in fact; but, after all his time in the forest alone to suffer in the depths of his thoughts and memories, he just couldn’t lie to himself about his feelings for Chris anymore.

 

Peter nodded to his niece and bowed his head in respect before exiting the hall; he had to do something to occupy his anxiety over the situation. All the questions racing through his head, Chris was so stubborn; _What if he could do it? What if he was able to ignore the draw? It isn’t as strong for humans as it is for wolves or other supernaturals._

 

_What if he doesn’t show up? What if he doesn’t see me that way anymore? What if it’s been too long?_

 

Peter shakes his head at himself as he walks across the castle courtyard toward his private quarters; in a separate wing, his quarters are almost outside of the castle actually, but he has to live there. Not only is it incredibly private, but it has the most incredible view of The Perilous Seas; it was nearly evening now and he knew the high tide, the deep blue waves would be gorgeous under the moonlight.

 

He needed to take his mind off of it all, he needed time to relax. Chris was too much a fixture in his mind tonight, and he’d need to occupy himself with something else to end the relentless questions speeding through his head.

 

\--

 

Peter sat in his once favorite chair, the biggest and most comfortable chair in his chambers that he’d situated to sit directly in front of his one and only window; it was a massive pane of perfect glass facing the ocean. The rain had started a few hours before he’d settled in, and the evening had descended like a shroud of danger overhead. Peter hums as he sips his wine, reading a book he’d meant to read years ago; listening in one ear as the waves lap against the rocks below the castle, the dark water glazed with white shown glorious under the pale light of the moon.

 

Finally, he was home.

 

\--

 

Peter groans quietly as a knock at his chamber door interrupts his relaxation. He puts aside his book and glass of wine to stand and stretch lazily before padding along the stone floor with bare feet.

 

The door creaks open and the rain wets his toes, “Christophe?”

 

The hunter looks up, blue eyes dilated, clothes soaked completely; the rain had been unforgiving tonight, and the hunter seemed not to care as he stares into Peter’s eyes.

 

“I- I’m sorry.” Peter is stunned into silence by his utterance, “I’m sorry Peter. For everything they did, my family ruined yours, broke them apart, drove us- I never should have done it. I never should have allowed my father to order us apart.” Chris shakes his head at himself, looking up at Peter with his hands balled at his sides.

 

“No you shouldn’t have.” Peter answers flatly.

 

“I know- I-“ Chris’s voice seems to break, “Can you ever forgive me?” He looks up, his eyes wet and Peter wants nothing more than to pull him into a fierce embrace.

 

“Well, having you here soaking wet and groveling is a good start; if you keep it up, maybe, maybe I could forgive you.” Peter smirks haughtily, and Chris’ brows furrow and he scoffs clearly surprised by Peter’s ruthless sass.

 

Peter says nothing as he grips Chris’s tunic and pulls him inside his room; he shuts the door behind them and moves into Chris’ space.

 

“Why don’t you stay, perhaps we can settle this with a test of endurance?” Peter speaks deeply, his voice focused with intent.

 

He can feel the hunter shudder under his gaze, “Only, if you’ve forgiven me. Peter- I can’t do anything before I know that this won’t be like it was before.”

 

Peter narrows his eyes in confusion, “Before?”

 

When we first started, until the end really; it was just physical, well- it was for you.”

 

“Not you?”

 

“I- I loved you.” Chris admits painstakingly.

 

“Ha- you really are clueless aren’t you?” Chris stares openly at Peter, “I love you too you moron. Why do you think I took such revenge upon you after you broke it off? I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t care about you.”

 

“Oh- “ Chris snorts lightly realizing his mistaken assumptions.

 

“Yes, you are a _moron_ , so- why don’t we do away with all this seriousness?” Peter says, his hands gripping Chris’s waistband.

 

“I’m always serious.” Chris answers darkly before shoving Peter into the nearest wall and attacking him with his hot lips and delicious tongue.

 

Peter moans, tilting his head to allow Chris’ tongue free reign, his hot breath is fire against his neck as he trails along his jaw, nipping at his skin and holding him perfectly still with his strong hands against his hip bones.

 

Chris pulls back for air and meets Peter’s gaze, his eyes are blown wide and Peter lets his alpha eyes bleed red; Chris’s aroused scent only intensifies at the action.

 

Peter lunges forward for the hunter’s throat, pulling the skin into his mouth with his teeth, nipping and biting down his jugular; Chris’ breath is heady as Peter works his hands up his torso. He pulls back only enough to pull off Chris’s jacket and he’s at his throat again in seconds, sucking and pulling on the tender skin stretched tight over his Adam’s apple.

 

Chris grunts as he pushes Peter away enough to tear off his thin tunic, he throws Peter against the wall again and pushes his thigh between his legs.

 

Peter grins as he meets his eyes, “You are serious aren’t you?” He smirks and Chris must take it as a challenge because he’s on his lips in a millisecond.

 

The heat is astounding; Peter’s natural werewolf body heat mixed with the heat of Chris’ intent makes the room almost unbearable to stand in, but Peter doesn’t care. It’s the best kind of fire he can imagine.

 

“I want you naked.” Chris says gruffly as he nips along Peter’s neck.

 

“Mm, then you’ll have to strip me.” Peter says around Chris’ mouth, and the hunter moans.

 

Chris pulls back enough to see him; he rakes his eyes down Peter’s taut body slowly and wets his lips watching as Peter’s eyes trace the action. He unlaces Peter’s trousers and pulls them away; the alpha’s breathe hitches as he watches Chris’s body sinking to the ground.

 

His claws scratch at the stone wall he’s against and Chris scoffs up at him before pulling away what’s left of Peter’s clothes; now the hunter’s breathe hitches. It’d been a long time since they’d seen each other like this, and Chris obviously missed it because he wastes no time gripping Peter’s dick in his hand.

 

Peter pushes into the touch only slightly making sure not to deter Chris from his position; he wants to claw at his skin, tear his way inside the hunter, crawl in and never leave. His darkest dreams would see Chris in the dirt writhing in pleasure, bloody and aching with delight.

 

Chris pulls his attention to the situation again when he starts sliding his hand up and down Peter’s hard on; Peter tenses at the touch and Chris works away his tension slowly, reaching his free hand around to Peter’s thigh to grip his tight muscles.

 

He works Peter up and down, moving faster with every one of the wolf’s moans; he’s rough and ruthless as he yanks Peter’s cock up and down. Peter looks down watching the faster jerking on Chris’ fingers wrapped around his penis; Chris looks up, his eyes a black sea, he swallows hard and Peter bites his lip.

 

Chris lurches forward suddenly, taking Peter into his mouth; the alpha gasps, breathless his head falls back, his eyes shut tight. He can’t help his claws from scratching violently against the stone; he can barely stand the pressure of Chris’ mouth around his head. He’s about to look down when the ruthless bastard actually sucks, forcing a loud moan from Peter’s throat.

 

 

Chris’ breath is searing as he pulls away from Peter’s cock to lick up the sides of his shaft; Peter hazards a look at the man and Chris meets his eyes, his reddened lips smirking at the alpha before he moves slowly toward Peter’s head again. He keeps his gaze, and Peter trails his every movement feeling the hunter’s hand grip the base of his dick; Chris sucks in Peter’s head again his other hand jerking up and down. Peter watches, wordless and hungry, he stares ravenously as he watches the hunter’s cheeks hollow as he sucks. 

 

Normally Peter would be inside of him at this point, clawing his back, pulling his hair making him scream, but it’d been so long; he could wait, he wanted this to last, and for once, it wasn’t just the sex he wanted to make last the night.

 

Peter is slick with Chris’s saliva and he softly moans in pleasure, letting his head fall back as Chris continues working him to an early grave, “You’re going to kill me…” He whispers breathlessly, and he feels the hunter’s burning mouth leave him, his eyes snap open to see the hunter rising from the floor with a grin.

 

“What-“ Peter starts but Chris puts a rough sweaty hand over his mouth and stares him into silence; his face serious and determined.

 

He steps back, his hand sliding down to rest on Peter’s bare chest, “It’s unfair, I’m still fully clothed.” He smirks at the wolf and Peter smiles widely at him, watching his hand fall from his chest to reach for his shirt.

 

Chris strips slowly; pulling the strings at the collar of his tunic, he lets the laces fall, the skin of his broad chest shown teasingly as his hands fall to his sides. Peter wets his lips as he stares at the hunter’s throat, his eyes flash resting on the hollow between his lover’s clavicles; Chris crosses his arms at the wrists and pulls his shirt over his head slowly, his ribs pushing out, his body rigid.

 

“Pants.” Peter demands harshly.

 

Chris huffs out a ragged breath before unlacing the front of his trousers and pushing them down; he tortures Peter with his slow moves, deliberate and so merciless; Chris tucks his thumbs into his waistband and pulls down his underwear, releasing his hard dick from its prison.

 

Peter stares hungrily at the hunter and they stand a foot apart for minutes, eyes memorizing the changes of each other’s bodies, until Peter can’t stand the distance anymore; he lunges forward storming the hunter, his mouth finds his easily and roughly. The hunter moans quietly, pulling Peter’s body into his, scratching his dull nails down Peter’s back and arms, gripping the skin as if there is still something left between them, something still separating their bodies.

 

“Bed.” Chris manages to grit out as Peter sucks along his throat.

 

“So demanding…” Peter smiles taking a step toward the direction of the bed, and Chris steps back faster, pulling Peter toward his as he leans against the edge of the massive bed.

 

He pushes himself on top of Chris and fucks his mouth with his tongue; the hunter moans shamelessly under him and he grips Peter’s cock in his hand again, jerking roughly as Peter continues abusing his mouth.

 

Peter pulls back abruptly and Chris meets his eyes, “Together?” Peter asks nodding to their rubbing cocks; the hunter breathes harshly and grips their dicks together, one hand on himself, the other gripping Peter.

 

The alpha can’t help the growl that erupts from his throat as he watches the hunter jerk them both up and down, his hands surprisingly soft, while his movements are rough, devoid of tenderness. They were both alphas really, both headstrong and in control, that made for rough times between them, but Peter would never complain. He knew him like no other, Peter never had to say anything, never had to tell him what he needed, this was why he loved him.

 

Peter arches his back, pulling his knee further, up onto the bed, Chris adjusts to the position without missing a beat; a perfect rhythm the two of them have. Peter moans as his dick starts leaking pre-come, he’s almost there, but Chris is devilish and dangerous, always making him suffer. He draws it out so slowly, but before long the height of their pleasure is too much, they’re both breathlessly moaning, ready for the finish.

 

Chris arches up into their rubbing dicks and speeds his pace between them; Peter’s growls as he comes, electricity shooting down his chest and out of his dick. Chris comes seconds later with a choked moan, and they dissolve both into pleasure, their chests and stomachs sticky with their release.

 

“You’re so beautiful.” Peter whispers, a firm smirk on his face as he leans down to smother Chris’s neck with soft kisses.

 

The hunter’s throat vibrates with soft laughter, “You know, I think I’ll need more praise than that.”

  
“Oh?” Peter hums along Chris’ throat, “What did you have in mind Christophe?” Peter leans back and situates himself directly on top of Chris, splaying his hands against his taunt stomach.

 

“There are things, things I’ve been imagining since the last time we laid together.” Chris smiles dangerously, “Things I need to do again, with you.”

 

“Just me? No one else?” Peter asks eying the hunter as he swirls his fingers through the come covering the hunter’s stomach.  

“There is no one else Peter. I’ve only ever loved one man.” Chris says seriously, and Peter meets his ice blue eyes with surprise.

 

“Only one- _man_. But there was someone else once.”

 

“My wife, and you had yours too.” Chris admits, “This…” He props himself on his elbows, reaching to grip Peter’s jaw with a sticky palm, “this is just us. I only want you.”

 

“Good. Because I am _never_ sharing you,” Peter leans into Chris’s space and eyes him darkly, “You’re _mine_.”

 

“And you’re mine.” He agrees, his eyes filled with dark promises, “Claim me.”

 

“Wha-“ Peter is shaken from the hunter’s words, “Are you sure? It’s not something that can be undone easily.”

 

“I don’t want it to be undone. I lost you once, I won’t let it happen again.” Chris whispers, moving to bring his neck closer to Peter’s mouth, he bares his throat.

 

“Chris…”

 

“Do it.” He pleads quietly, a determination in his eyes that Peter can’t resist.

 

Peter takes his time, moving forward to first scent mark the hunter deeply; his nose and forehead rubbing slowly into Chris’s neck, his nose trails up and behind his ear, rubbing himself into the hunter deliberately. Every wolf would know he was his simply through their scents, but Chris wanted more and Peter ached to give it to him.

 

Peter meets his eyes once more and kisses him passionately, letting his tongue massage Chris’s slowly, his lips sucking Chris’s into his mouth softly; he pulls away and Chris keeps his eyes closed, for a few seconds Peter thinks they’ll stay like this that they won’t have to go the extra mile. But Chris lifts his head, baring his throat to the alpha once more.

 

_He really does want it? He wants me- us._

 

Peter breathes deeply and finds Chris’ neck with his mouth once more; he shifts, his eyes bleeding red, his face contorting into his hybrid form. Chris opens his eyes to stare lovingly at him, even through his beastly appearance, the hunter still looks at him the same way he always had. Peter breathes again and pushes Chris’ chin up ever so slightly before nipping with his fangs at his bare skin; he bites softly, not enough to draw blood, but enough to raise the hunter’s blood to the surface of his skin.

 

He pulls back and allows his face to return to his human appearance before rubbing his thumb over the newly made mark on his lover’s neck; the claim is made.

 

“My turn.” Chris says flatly.

 

“You don’t have too, it’s only customary for the wolf, not the human- “ Chris raises a hand to Peter’s jaw and pulls him close again.

 

“This is a two way road Peter. We have to do it right this time, I trust you and _love_ you, now- let me _show_ you.”

 

“Who are you? Really, what have you done with that surly hunter I fell for? The one that could barely speak to me, who only ever spoke dirty, who never showed me who he really was unless I pulled it out of him by force?” Peter asks smartly.

 

“It’s been a long time Peter; we’ve both changed. For the better.”

 

“I don’t know about that.” Peter looks down, “I’ve done terrible things you know.”

 

“So have I. Now, we’ll do them together.” Chris promises with a feral grin; Peter returns it and bares his own throat.

 

Chris pulls him close and claims his alpha; the mark is true elation for a wolf, staking a claim on another is satisfying enough, but a return is pure ecstasy. A bite of the wrist means intent to court, but the neck? That means _marriage_ is pending, and if Chris’ grin is anything to go by, the way he kisses Peter, the way he throws him down after his claim is made and mounts him; he means to take the alpha as his own.

 

Truly, and forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took soooo long! This is my first sex scene in a fic ever so hopefully it's good? I held back some but it's still good I think and I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> 'Set the mood' with this fanmix: http://8tracks.com/blaiddmawrdrwg/love-is-our-violent-game
> 
> One chapter left...


	15. Akkedis Koning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were all curious, he could practically smell their questions; he had to get to it, the retelling would be painful, but they had to know the threat they all faced.

“Derek- I mean Alpha Hale, sorry” Allison stumbles through the apology.

 

“Your pack now Allison. You can call me Derek.”

 

“Oh- thanks.” Allison let’s her dimples tell the alpha how happy she is about the evolution of their relationship.

 

He manages a half smile, before turning to look at the door; Allison realizes he’s heard Stiles coming as the emissary rushes through the door.

 

“Stiles? Why were you running?” Allison asks.

 

“What’s going on?” Derek asks taking on a worried expression.

 

“It’s good- good news!” He breathes out shakily, he catches his breath before saying, “Oh my- OK your Uncle,” he points to Derek, “And your father,” he points to Allison, then mashes his hands together and makes a strange gesture.

 

Allison raises a brow and looks to Derek for answers; the alpha just shrugs.

 

“Oh my Gods- they’re together! Like officially together, like mated and everything.”

 

“Wait- you mean Prince Peter has laid claim to my father?” Allison asks urgently.

 

“No, they’ve laid it to each other! And, they’ve done the neck thing, their practically married- well, werewolf-married.” Stiles tosses a hand through the air and grins at Allison and Derek.

 

“They’re- “Allison is understandably stunned.

 

“Totally understandable that you’re speechless- seriously I can barely believe it myself. I thought they were over, like they hated each other and then, they come into The Great Hall when me and Lydia and the rest of the inner circle other than you Derek, are there and BOOM!” Stiles yells making Allison cringe, “Hickies on their necks and everything. It’s big news.”

 

“I need to see Peter.” Derek says before grabbing Stiles’ hand and pulling him out of the room.

 

“Hey- wait up!” Allison says running after them.

 

\--

 

“Derek?” Allison hears Prince Peter say before she rushes into the room behind Stiles.

 

Derek stares at the prince and Allison’s father and she notices they are standing incredibly close, shoulder to shoulder, and there is a dark mark on her father’s throat; the prince has a matching mark.

 

After seeing the same thing Allison has, Derek wastes no time in hugging his uncle; Prince Peter actually laughs and her father stands next to him his eyebrows raised in surprise. Derek uses one arm to grip Allison’s fathers shoulder sleeve; and the hunter slaps a hand to the crown prince’s back in return.

 

“Aww.” Stiles says dopily to Allison’s right, and she wraps an arm around his, resting her head on his shoulder.

 

Lydia walks from the end of the table to join the duo, grabbing Allison’s other hand and smiling at the display before them; Queen Laura is laughing and telling Derek to let go of Peter so she can suffocate him next, Princess Cora is smiling openly in a way Allison has never had the pleasure of seeing, and the Queen Mother is talking quietly with Allison’s father, a smile plastered on his face.

 

Everyone is happy with the news; it’s so amorous and beautiful, she wishes the entire pack was there to enjoy it- Allison snaps up her head from Stiles’ shoulder and looks at him and Lydia.

 

“We have to tell the pack!” Allison says happily, spinning the two of her friends around and pulling them out of the room at a run.

 

“Allison! You’re going to make me trip, will you calm down?!” Lydia yells at her, and Allison laughs.

 

\--

 

Days later the castle, and the capital are both in an uproar over the rumors of a double wedding; both the Prince and the Crown Prince were to be married. Lydia knew of course that Peter and General Argent weren’t in any hurry to be wed, but Stiles and Derek _were_ in fact being rushed into a massive wedding by the Hale family.

 

Peter and Lydia were working together to make all the dresses and suits by hand, even the Lady Blake had pitched in; her mate Kali and her pack returned and ventured to the capital to reunite with their allies, the Hale’s and they decided to stay for the wedding. It was still weeks off, but Lydia couldn’t help feeling an eagerness she hadn’t felt in such a long time.

 

Her courtship with Cora had been announced to the court, but not yet the capital and she was having the time of her life living in the court with all of her new friends and family. She felt happier than she had in years; but even with all of her elation, she still felt something was wrong.

 

Stiles had told her the night before after a wonderful dinner and lengthy research session and debate; he felt something looming, something dark on the horizon. There was danger in his tone, but he laughed it off, “Forget it, you know I’m nuts Lyds. It’s nothing, I’m sure it’s just my pessimism getting the best of me.” He’d said.

 

But Lydia knew better than to laugh it off; he was powerful, more powerful than Emissary Blake or Deaton, and he’d had strange feelings, even visions before. After everything they’d been through, she knew not to take Stiles’ jokes lightly; they always had a deeper meaning.

 

Besides that, Lydia herself was an omen of death, and though she thankfully didn’t feel any death warnings, she still felt _something_. Something was coming.

 

\----

 

“Jackson- it is alright if I call you by your first name?” The Queen asks.

 

Walking down the halls of the castle with The Queen of Brandon, Jackson is stunned by her question knowing that most royals wouldn’t be so nice to him. The royals had let him have so many days to recuperate, let him have a large chamber all to himself and didn’t bother him, not once. He had to tell them the truth, he couldn’t lie to werewolves, but he wouldn’t lie to them even if he could. His mother had always taught him to pay his debts any way he could; the truth was all he could offer in return for their generosity.

 

“Yes, of course Your Majesty.”

 

“Laura, please.” Jackson stares at her and she chuckles lightly, “I know it’s unorthodox to allow you such informality, but what can I say? It’s been a truly gracious few weeks. My family is back together, my brother and uncle both are happily mated and my little sister might be on her way to doing the same. I’m in a generous mood.” The queen says with a smile.

 

“Alright- Laura.”

 

“Good. Now, it’s off to The Great Hall for us, we have to meet with my council and discuss your story. They are all very curious to know where you come from and why you were found in the forest stark naked.” Laura says flatly.

 

“Yes- of course. They should know the truth.”

 

\--

 

“Jackson?” A voice asks from behind the queen and Jackson as they reach The Great Halls’ huge doors.

 

Jackson turns to face the voice and is stunned into silence as he sees him.

 

“Jackson! I thought you were dead!” Danny runs forward and crushes Jackson in a bear hug, “I didn’t know you were here, when did you-?” Danny pulls back and sees the queen, “Oh- Gods, sorry Queen Laura.”

 

“Its fine, you two know each other then?”

 

Jackson shudders, “Yeah- yes uh, Danny and I grew up together in Vance.”

 

“The land of Vance, to the southeast of Brandon?”

 

“Yes- that’s where we were both born.”

 

“I heard terrible stories of recent events there, in the past few years since Hattil was taken.”

 

Jackson nods solemnly and Danny grips his shoulder, “Can we- there’s a lot I need to tell you Your Majesty.” Jackson says suddenly determined.

 

He had to tell them, the threat to his country was dire and it might lead to Brandon after all. It was his responsibility to relay the message; The Queen Mother of Vance had ordered him to do it, and now, after all this time he was finally ready to follow the order.

 

\--

 

Queen Laura allows Danny to join the meeting; and Jackson looks around the room, trying to remember all of their names from the day he arrived in the castle. They had introduced themselves, now he had to remember- Crown Prince Derek, Prince Peter, Princess Cora, General Argent, Emissary Stiles and the banshee, Scribe Lydia.

 

They were all curious, he could practically smell their questions; he had to get to it, the retelling would be painful, but they had to know the threat they all faced.

 

Jackson took a seat at the head of the table, Queen Laura to his right alongside all of the royals; the general, emissary and the banshee all sat to the left, Danny to his actual left close enough to reassure him. He was grateful enough to venture a smile at his old friend, who easily returned it.

 

“Take your time Jackson.” The queen says softly, but he can feel the room’s eyes on him. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat, sitting up and readying himself.

 

“I am- I was the Crown Prince of Vance.” Jackson hears the emissary gasp, and most of the royals stiffen at the admission, “My father died a few days after my nineteenth birthday, and my mother wanted me to marry my intended bride as soon as possible and become the rightful king of Vance.”

 

“I heard- sorry.” The emissary apologizes, “I just, I heard that Vance was at war?”

 

“We- it was.” Jackson swallows, “I- the country is separate from this one as you all know, I guess we just loved our independence. Anyway, we have pretty strict policies on the supernatural, unlike Brandon- my parents’ parents and their family before, back hundreds of years they all hated the supernatural. We outlaw all supernatural unless they are- slaves.” Jackson cringes, “I don’t feel that way, I never have and my father and mother were a lot more lenient that their parents were with the supernatural in our country, but then, we went to war with the creatures of the Daegal Forest and Swampland, and everything changed.”

 

“What happened?” Princess Cora asks curiously.

 

“They- it was the day of my wedding to Princess Heather, and I was happy, excited. I had knew her since I was three and I loved her- we, the wedding was the day they attacked.”

 

“What was it that attacked the castle?” Prince Peter asks.

 

“Kanima.” Jackson says harshly.

 

“What?” The emissary says flatly, gaping at Jackson, and he swallows in anxiety, the room is silent and the air stale.

 

“Kanima?” Prince Peter sounds interested, not afraid.

 

“I thought Kanima were, rare? Like near extinction?” The emissary asks the room.

 

“As did I.” Prince Peter agrees.

 

“How many were there? I mean, surely the castle defended itself against them?” The Queen Mother asks suddenly.

 

“They- there were hundreds of them.”

 

“Hundreds?!” The queen almost yells.

 

“Laura- let him tell us what happened.” The Crown Prince says, squeezing his sister’s arm warningly; she nods back and gestures to Jackson.

 

“They attacked- climbed the walls, the castle they crawled all over every surface. The guards had no chance, the army was near the forest- that’s how we knew actually. The archers at the castle walls told us that the army was being attacked. None of them survived and then the creatures were on the castle, killing our guards, slaughtering everyone. It was a massacre.”

 

“By the Gods…” Danny whispers.

 

“They came straight for us- after killing everyone else, the creatures they- _killed_ my mother, my fiancé…then they came for me.”

 

“How did you-?”

 

“Survive? I didn’t- I mean, I was attacked but they scratched me, tore at me with their claws and let me bled out on the floor next to my mother and Heather…I- their leader showed up, he looked so different compared to them. They were all serpents, crawling around on all fours, but he walked on two legs, it was so strange- I’d never seen one of them walk like that before, like a person.”

 

“It was shifted and walking on two legs?” General Argent asks curiously.

 

“Yes. After- my mother told me to come here, to tell the surrounding countries what had happened, then she- died.” Danny grips his hand and Jackson nods to him, “I- the leader I mean, he walked over speaking in a strange language issuing orders I guess. He didn’t even look at me. After awhile I started wondering why I hadn’t died yet, and I reached a hand to my wounds and noticed I wasn’t bleeding anymore- the leader, the Kanima Leader noticed I was alive and came to- _investigate_.”

 

“What did he do to you?” The banshee asks him quietly.

 

“He tore at my suit and looked at my wounds, then he yelled at his soldiers? I don’t know what to call them other than that- he seemed like their general or something. He never spoke English, or talked to me either, just whispered while looking at my wounds and yelled at his soldiers. Eventually- he stood and picked me up, and I was shocked to realize I could actually stand by myself. I thought I was dead- but my wounds had healed.”

 

“How?” Danny asks.

 

“Their leader _smiled_ at me, then yelled at his guys, but not angrily this time it was more- like he was excited. He turned to me and spoke in that language again, I couldn’t understand him, I was terrified and angry, and I yelled at him. He put his slimy hand over my mouth and said something slowly, ‘ _Akkedis Koning’_.” Jackson repeats the words fluently, “He said it four or five times, slowly then gestured to me- like he wanted me to say it. I did, over and over he made me repeat it until I said it right.”

 

Jackson shudders, remembering the creatures’ touch, the scales, his claws stroking his arms; the other kanima all around, their tails whipping across the air, their slitted glowing eyes staring at him in intrigue.

 

“What does it mean?” The emissary whispers, staring intently at Jackson.

 

“It’s their language, the lizard language. After he made me say it- I lost count how many times, he uh- he looked me in the eye and spoke in English. He said I was something special, something rare, that they’d been searching for. I didn’t care, or understand, but he repeated the words in his language again then said it in English.” Jackson takes a breath.

 

Danny tenses beside him and Jackson squeezes his hand raising his head to stare at the room with serpentine eyes, “He said I was- am, that I am, ‘The Lizard King’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINISHED! Yeah I really do leave it hanging don't I, most obvious opening for a sequel ever. Hope you've enjoyed the fic, please let me know if you have questions or you just want to tell me what you thought of it. Kudos & comments so appreciated and thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed the fic. It was so fun to write. 
> 
> I did want to mention that originally it may have seemed like Lydia was red riding hood, however hopefully it should be clear now with all the hints I dropped that Chris was in fact the red hood of this story. It was about him and Peter all along. 
> 
> Contact me on [tumblr](http://blaiddfenrisulfr.tumblr.com/). if you have questions or just want to talk Teen Wolf.


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